#Lester Sinclair x you

[loveandmurders]

You belong to Ambrose II (poly!Sinclairs x f!reader)

Hello everyone! First, I really want to thank you all for the love you gave to the first part of this story (that you can find here). 😍🥰

It made me so happy but also very anxious about this next part haha! I planned 3 parts in total (a fourth maybe, if you ask for it), and I do hope you'll enjoy this series as much as you did at first <3 <3

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of stalking, kidnapping and murders, morally grey reader, reader getting angry, sad and feeling guilty, some strong words, dark!brothers, very brief mentions of sexual desire and activities

Lester was good at following people without them to notice him, even if there was no one else on the road. He knew the roads by heart and his hearing was sharp, so he could guess where a car was without being right behind it. He actually parked near the forest and simply closed his eyes to guess which roads you were taking. He guessed you were at the campsite; a lot of tourists stayed there too. You were making things very easy for him and he thanked his luck. When everything seemed quiet again, he walked through the woods, just to make sure he was right and indeed, he found you sat with your people. You were five in total, but you all looked too gentle and soft to really be a problem for him and his brothers. He watched you, hidden behind a tree. His heart was clenching at the sight of you laughing. Even if it wasn’t with him, just hearing this beautiful sound once again was making him thrilled. He couldn’t wait for his hands to roam your body like they used to either.

He let you eat with your friends and he let you fall asleep under the bright sky full of stars. He saw you chatting a little while with one of the boys of the group and he had to admit he really didn’t like it. He didn’t know if he was your boyfriend or not, but he was definitively jealous. And he would need to talk about it to the twins so they could get rid of the man. Actually, he wanted everyone dead as quickly as possible, because you didn't belong to any of them.

He texted the location to his brothers.

Soon enough, the three men were towering over your group, their whole being finally calming down: you were back in their life and they weren’t going to let you go anymore. They couldn’t believe you were finally there and they didn’t attack your group right away. They wanted to enjoy the calmness written all over your face first. They always thought you were looking like an angel when you were sleeping. Vincent tried to memorise the scene so he could draw your sleeping form under the moon. Bo almost smiled, so relieved you hadn’t disappeared forever. Lester was the only one growing impatient. The twins knew things weren’t going to be too pretty after they kidnapped your group and they didn’t want that. They wanted to go straight to the moment where you would allow them to show you tenderness and to pleasure you. It was going to be so much work, so they wanted to enjoy the peace of the moment.

If only you had never left them; things would have been so much better.

If only you hadn’t decided to camp so close to Ambrose, you would have been safe.

Deep down, you knew you should have asked your friends to drive away as far away as possible, but you didn’t.

Because you didn’t want your friends to worry about anything and to ruin the nice mood.

Because you knew it was useless; the Sinclairs were hunters and they never let go of their prey until they had it.

Because you wanted the brothers to force you back into their lives, even though you would rather die than admit it.

You knew it was over when you woke up, in the middle of the night, feeling watched. You also heard quiet footsteps all over your group. You could have grabbed the little knife you had in your bag, or you could have screamed to wake up everyone, but you didn’t. You simply waited. You didn’t want the Sinclairs to have to hurt your friends or yourself. Maybe especially yourself.

You still jumped when you felt a hand over your mouth and you looked up. You recognised Bo’s touch on you and tried your best to not start crying out of fear. The man shushed you into your ear, before he took into your delicious scent.

“Shh, sweetheart, won’t hurt ya, 'kay? No need to make things difficult” he whispered to you and you nodded which made him smile “Atta girl” he praised you.

It was then you noticed two shadows moving over your friends. You weren’t too sure what they were going to do to them. You started to panic and tried to get away from Bo’s touch. “We won’t kill them. Yet. We’re just druggin’ them so we can brin’ them to Ambrose with us” Bo explained to you. You calmed down but you still shook your head at that. “I know ya want them all safe and sound, but we can’t let them go to the police, so they come” Bo replied and you heard the venom in his voice. He couldn’t hide the jealousy and the rage of his girl loving other people than him and his brothers “Time to go back to sleep, princess” he mused and you tried to fight as he pressed a tissue over your face.

You didn’t struggle for long before everything went dark.

When you opened your eyes again, you felt like you were back years ago. You were laying down in the guest room in the Sinclairs' house; a guest room that was actually yours because Trudy insisted for you to leave your belongings there, as it was your second house. It wasn’t like the Sinclairs were inviting anyone else at home anyways (or that anyone wanted to sleep in their house either). Your parents weren’t too happy about it, but you often slept there. The room was still the same with its pinkish walls and the cream furniture. Drawings were on the walls. You almost wondered if you were going to be late for school before you realised what truly happened. 

The Sinclairs kidnapped you and your friends. 

You tried to sit up but you realised one of your hands was cuffed to the bed frame. You cursed and tried to get your hand free until you heard footsteps in the corridor. You stopped breathing, waiting for someone to enter the room. Your heart was hammering inside your chest. You wanted to believe it was all a nightmare, and that you were going to wake up soon.

Bo cracked the door open and smiled when he noticed you were awake.

“Hello, doll,” he hummed as he entered the room.

You finally could have a good look at him and you had to admit he became as handsome as you thought he would be. You looked away, afraid of what was going to happen to you, afraid of him. Your whole body was tense and you cursed yourself for having tempted the devil like your mother asked you not to. You had been so so stupid.

Bo walked to you before cupping your face to force you to look at him. He had lost his smile. His thumb gently stroked your cheek. You tried very hard to not start crying. Or to not lean into his touch. His skin felt so warm against yours.

“Please, Bo. Let us go” you whispered. You noticed that the man’s jaw tightened. It was clearly not the first words he wanted to hear from you after all this time.

“Trust me, no one’s leavin’ no more” he harshly replied and tears fell down your cheeks. It calmed him down “Ah baby” he shushed as he knelt beside you to kiss your tears away. You hated how much you loved to feel his lips on your skin once again. “Ya’re meant to be a Sinclair, ‘s fate bringin’ ya where ya belong. And we’re all gonna take an extra good care of ya for all the years we had to go through without ya” he continued as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“You want me, keep me and let everyone else go, please. They have nothing to do with this.” you begged again. Bo sighted.

“Ya shouldn’t’ve left Ambrose, doll. Now ya have to pay the price for it” he simply shrugged and got up. “Gonna bring ya some breakfast, baby, I’ll be back” he added and left the room.

You cried even more, knowing you wouldn’t be able to reason with the Sinclairs. You hoped your people were still alive so you could help them to escape, even if it meant you would stay at Ambrose forever.

You were tugging on the handcuff again when you heard the door being opened a second time. You looked up to see Vincent watching you from the entrance. He looked like the shy boy you met the first time. You swallowed hard. You wanted to ask him what he did with your friends but you realised you were too afraid of the answer, so you stayed silent. Vincent finally moved closer to you and knelt in front of the bed. His fingers gently traced your face, as to memorise the change in your features since last time he saw you. You let him do it and closed your eyes. He removed the tears with a sad pout concealed behind his mask. You could pretend you were still a teenager, and Vincent was quietly flirting with you through tender touches.

You opened your eyes again when you felt the masked twin grab your free hand. He removed enough of his mask to press your palm against his scarred skin. You could have stayed immobile, but you didn’t. You gently stroked his cheek and he hummed in approval, his eye closed in well being. It felt so good to finally get your touch back.

“Hi, Vinny” you whispered and he looked up at you with the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He kissed your hand. “Not gonna hurt me, right?” you asked, just to make sure. The man instantly shook his head. “Not gonna turn me into a wax statue either?” you added with a bite of your lips. Same answer. Relief flooded through you.

Forever love you. Missed you so badly. He slowly signed to you, as he wasn’t certain you still remembered ASL, but you did.

You didn’t have time to answer before Bo entered the room with a trail of food. It smelt good; you could already recognise his signature pancakes. Vincent stood up as Bo put the trail on the nightstand.

“Gonna untie ya, but nothin’ stupid, girl” he warned you and you couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him. You weren’t too sure how you could be any more stupid than you already had been. What were you thinking when you decided to bring your friends so close to Ambrose? You wondered if deep down you hadn’t wanted this. “Y/N” Bo groaned and you simply tug on the handcuff. “Hey, don’t hurt yourself now!” Bo exclaimed as his hand flew on your wrist and you stopped tugging.

“Untie me then” you replied and Bo let escape a little smirk

“Ah yes, ya’re so hot when ya’re all bossy, ain’t ya?” he teased as he removed the handcuff from your wrist. You didn’t reply because you refused to acknowledge him flirting with you, like he used to. You massaged your wrist as you sat up. 

Knowing they weren’t going to hurt or kill you, appeased you a little and you thanked Bo for the food. You actually ate it with appetite, even though the twins’ stares were making you feel uncomfortable. They both sat, on a chair or on a desk, staying silent. They shared looks from time to time, but you tried your best to not mind them.

“Are they dead already?” you suddenly asked, because you needed to know

“Who?” Bo asked back, feigning innocence

“My friends” you groaned, your stomach twisted in worry. Maybe you shouldn’t have eaten before asking this question, you thought.

“No idea who ya’re talkin’ ‘bout” Bo shrugged.

You had a very bad feeling. You turned your attention toward Vincent, who tried to look away from you.

"Vincent." you simply said "Are they dead?"

Vincent hesitated about what to say. In the end, he slowly nodded at you. 

You got up and threw the plate on the wall in one swift and yet brutal movement. The porcelain broke as you started to angrily scream at them.

“Fuck! Fuck you all!” you cried out as both the twins got up. Bo tried to sit you back on the bed but you shoved him to the side. You grabbed Vincent by the shoulders “I swear to God, Vincent, if you fucking turned them into wax statues, I’m gonna burn down your cherished House of Wax to the fucking ground!!” you yelled even more.

Vincent’s eye widened and he thought about the four bodies he had already prepared to turn into statues. He quickly nodded though. He had no desire in upsetting you even more. And god forbid the twins to think how hot and attractive you were when you were so angry… If only you weren’t mad at them.

“How ‘bout ya calm down?” Bo grumbled but it only angered you more

“That I calm down? That I fucking calm down? You killed my people!! And then you wonder why I left Ambrose and never came to you all?” you screamed. Your words hurt Bo a lot more than he could admit so his own anger rose inside his chest

“Oh yeah? Well it’s funny ‘cause I ain’t rememberin’ ya carin’ that much about the killin’ before! Ya knew what mother and father were doin’ and it didn’t stop ya from livin’ with us most of your time!” Bo argued back

“It was different, it was your parents! I thought we could all live away from this mess, but no, you both decided the mess was worth it!” you continued

“It was the only life for us, and ya know it!” Bo replied as he gestured at Vincent who looked down

“You scared me off Ambrose” you cried out

“But now ya’re back and ya’re never fuckin’ leavin’ ever again! Ya’re ours, don’t ya know it, Y/N? Ya gave us everythin’ and we gave ya our souls in exchange! Didn’t ya enjoy flirtin’, kissin’ and havin’ sex with us? Or maybe ya were just a whore” Bo replied and you slapped him. 

You didn’t even realise what you did, you just did it. Bo pushed you on the bed and Vincent quickly stopped his twin from coming closer to you. But you weren’t afraid. You couldn’t be afraid of the people you truly had loved the most in your existence, and who had always been eager to do anything for you.

It was why the brothers loved you with such fierce passion; you had the strength to call them out on their bullshit and to make them obey. They were wrapped around your little finger, but it came with a cost: they would burn the whole world down if it meant keeping you theirs.

“Is that what you think of me? Great, Beauregard! But it can’t hurt me more than what you just did to my friends! And then you dare tell me you love me?” you said as you sent a glance at Vincent who felt like you pierced his heart with a dagger “It ain’t love, that might be why I ran away from you all! I shouldn’t’ve come back to the South of the country. Stupid fucking bad luck!”

Bo was about to reply to this, even though Vincent was trying to calm him down, but the door opened again. You saw Lester entering the room with a worried expression written all over his face. Things were really not going the way it was supposed to, he thought. He had heard you arguing with Bo from downstairs and he hoped he could put everyone back in a good mood.

But you couldn’t even stand looking at him after what happened. You got up once again and pushed the twins away from you.

“You know what, get all the fuck out of my room!” you yelled and you continued to push them toward the door. Once they were all out, you slammed the door shut and fell on your knees as you silently started to cry.

--

Taglist : @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21 ; @thatbitchanna27 ; @robin-the-enby ; @i-like-horror-andshitt ; @cecilwritesstuff ; @delusion-is-convenient ; @artificialintestines ; @sugarrush-blush ; @crypticlxrsh ; @g0thl3zz ; @katerinaval ; @oneofvincentscandles ; @limehaspassed ; @sillylittlereader ; @mommymilkerfanclub ; @oranedgp ; @mottysith ; @partlyvee ; @gorewhore123 ; @mrstargayen09 ; @aesthetic-bitches-tum ; @mfnqueen1 ; @etheralrue ; @nanami-kento-simp ; @bluekuu ; @excusemyrandomramblings ; @fluffy-little-demon ; @oneofvincentscandles ; @domoron ; @narcolepticduck

(I really hope I didn't forget anyone! <3)

--

PART III

[sketchbook-of-shadows]

💕Cuddling Slashers Headcanons💕

(x reader, all sfw🫶)

I finally finished the cuddling headcanons!! I wanna say thanku to @sprite-real as I based this off their slasher cuddling headcanons post they very kindly done up for me so please go read their HC's first to show them some support and also for context! (this is not a request, everyone give Sprite love and say ' thanku Sprite' 🔫) I'll also be putting these in the same order they did😚💕

Thomas Hewitt

I didn't use a pose ref for this one but I still really liked how it turned out, still getting used to drawing 2 figures close to eachother without it looking awkward at this time because it's the first one I drew

Bubba Sawyer

Struggled a little with his mask and hair on this one but overall I really like the pose

Lester Sinclair

I'm gonna be honest, I almost waged war on Lester because it took forever to get his face even remotely similar to how he looks in the movie (I still feel it doesn't but if I spent longer on this it'd probably be out in Jan), I adored drawing Jonesy though (puppyyyy)

Bo Sinclair

This pose was a little awkward for me to do up so I ended up tweaking the ref I made a couple of times because his head looked weird

Vincent Sinclair

Definitely my favourite one, favourite brother, favourite pose and overall favourite drawing out of these

Michael Myers

Looks a little awkward but trust me, it's meant to look like that. Also if you zoom in a bit I drew his eyes under his mask but I mostly shadowed them out because it looked off

Jason Voorhees

Posing here was a little sus but I love it regardless

Also buttcheeks hehe😛

I made these poses (aside from Thomas's one) in Magic Poser, if you'd like to use the same ref for an oc or a self insert or whichever, I can upload the poses to the Magic Poser gallery and share them there or post the exact angles of the ones I used, just ask and u shall receive🫶

OH ITS 1AM

[bluecoolr]

I don't care, okay? Lester digs out finds his older brothers after the movie ending.

They're all alive and hiding out somewhere until the heat dies down.

EDIT: CLICK FOR BETTER RESOLUTION

[sunkendreams]

Ok hear me out bc this has been in my mind for a minute. Lester secretly toying and touching reader in the truck while someone is standing outside the truck, be it Bo, some potential victim I just feel like he is the type

heatstroke.

( lester sinclair x fem!reader. )

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lester sinclair x fem!reader.

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓: one-shot — requested.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4.3K.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: SMUT! (mdni), public sex, risky location, vaginal fingering, fingering (f!feceiving), fingerfucking, spit as lube, dirty talk, praise, finger sucking, very mild coercion, lester is a bit of a pervert, bo sinclair cameo, obsessive/slightly creepy behavior from lester

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: listen ,,, you were onto something incredible when you requested this, this was so hot to write you don’t understand !!! lester is criminally underrated aaaaand this was so much hornier than I thought it’d be !! hope y’all enjoy! ❤️

TAGLIST: @freyjasfenrir ; @darklylucid ; @chaotichellscape ; @kiki-dohedo ; @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better ; @iamcautiouslyoptimistic ; @milland ; @the-anxious-youth ; @nastymensimp

Summertime in Louisiana was akin to setting fire in a desert — humidity on top of an acrid, stifling heat. You didn’t have a clue as to why your friends dragged you all the way out here under the false pretense of a camping trip. In all actuality, they wanted to visit this town that wasn’t listed on any map — Ambrose.

The journey itself was treacherous, going through thick, endless woodlands, marshlands, and bogs before coming towards the town. It was just around the bend, a large chunk of the road missing, now consumed by swampwater, jagged rocks, and erosion. Your friend was confident that he could maneuver his truck through it — boy, was he wrong.

“It won’t make it,” Josie chimed, standing beside you as the both of you watched a pair of young men attempt to push the truck through the wash. The truck unceremoniously came to a grinding, screeching halt, tires partially buried within the mud. “Idiots.”

You kept quiet, idly smoothing your palms across the little, floral sundress you wore. You certainly weren’t dressed for camping — you had no interest. Going to Ambrose was supposed to be a ‘day out on the town’, with your desire being to look at small shops and simply enjoy the atmosphere.

“Maybe we should call somebody,” You piped up, nervously wringing your hands together. “There has to be a tow truck around, you think?” Anxiousness blossomed within the pit of your stomach, giving you a feeling of uncertainty. You wished that they would’ve just listened and tried to drive around it.

“Cut the shit, we don’t need a tow truck.” Josie’s boyfriend, Tate, growled in protest. Admittedly, you had no idea why you were out here in the staggering heat with these three. Tate and Josie had been your friends since high school, but Cody, the third boy, was simply here out of devotion to Josie. You were confident that there was something else going on.

Josie shot you an apologetic glance, but you had enough of watching them push at a truck that wasn’t moving anywhere whatsoever. With a begrudging sigh, you started down the dirt path in the direction of Ambrose, carefully stepping across rocks to avoid caking your boots in a layer of viscous mud.

“Where are you going?” Josie called out, and you simply waved your hand at her, dismissive of her concerns. You were sick and tired of being around the trio, anyway. A walk and a bit of fresh air would do you a world of good.

“Going to town to find somebody.” You replied, and continued walking, crossbody purse slung over your frame as you made the short trek into town. It seemed exceptionally lively — plenty of stores, the chattering ambiance of a quaint neighborhood, and vintage, neon signs that pointed you toward your destination.

You were delighted to discover the gas station and mechanic shop, which already seemed to be inhabited by someone. An old, beat-up pickup truck sat by the gas pumps, back of the bed shoddily cleaned-out, save for a few remnants of roadkill and animal bones. There was an ‘L. S.’ carved into the worn metal above the back wheel, which you curiously traced your fingers over.

The hot sun blistered down upon you, making it stifling due to the now-faded asphalt you stood upon. You quickly ducked underneath the shaded cover of the gas station, almost colliding into someone when you rounded the front of the truck.

“Oh!” You gasped, chest tight with a momentary lapse of fear. “I’m so sorry!” The energy you carried was akin to that of a nervous nelly, clearly unnerved by her surroundings. You felt horrible for running into some innocent bystander — the owner of the truck, you figured.

You were met with the skeptical, hazel-eyed gaze of a man who reminded you of a possum. Rugged, scraggly, and clearly meant for the woodlands. He straightened his hat out, head cocking to one side when he peered down at you — prettiest thing he’d seen in ages. “Nothin’ to be sorry for, sugar! Guess I wasn’t watchin’ where I was goin’, neither.”

His voice bore that native Southern dialect, but he didn’t sound hostile whatsoever. When you finally got a good look at him, he seemed scrappy — maybe he lived in Ambrose. A large buck knife was holstered to his hip, neck adorned in a series of chokers and necklaces, decorated in some sort of animal bone.

“Say, what’cha doin’ ‘round here, anyway?” He inquired, leaning against the door of his truck. “Y’look a little lost.” His tone remained friendly, high-spirited, even. He was somewhat grimy, covered in a layer of dewy perspiration, wiping his hands off on a damp cloth.

“My friends and I were coming up here to visit the town, but our truck got stuck in that patch of marsh just around the bend,” You sighed, somewhat agitated with the whole scenario. If they would’ve listened to you, the truck would be just fine and not tire-deep in the mud. “I was just looking for some help.”

There was a sparkling in his eyes, a peculiar glittering that intrigued you to no end. A chuckle escaped him, finding humor in the situation. “They should’a jus’ drove ‘round.” He mused, and you had to laugh, even if it was a bitter sound. You kept your hands tucked together, idly fiddling with the strap of your purse.

Your expression was somewhat amused, lips twitching into a sardonic smile. “That’s what I said,” You sighed, happy to be away from the oppressive glare of the midday sun. “Either way, we’re stuck. Do you know if there’s a tow truck around here, or someone who could help?” You asked.

He grinned — a toothy, wolfish grin. Lester wasn’t blessed with Bo’s natural handsomeness, but he certainly had the personality to offset it all. He liked that you smiled and laughed along with him, didn’t treat him like backwoods trash, either. “M’brother’s got a tow truck! Bet he’d help ya out! Why don’t I give ‘im a call?”

Finally — your savior.

Relief rippled through you as you nodded several times over, rifling through your purse to unveil a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. “Here,” You insisted. “For the call and for your help. I can’t thank you enough.” You nodded, but the man simply pushed your hand away.

Being around you was a reward in itself — and once his brothers took care of your friends, you would be his prize in all of this. He couldn’t have been any happier with how all of this was progressing. Lester opened up the driver’s side door, grabbing a rather shoddy-looking flip-phone. He was still trying to figure these things out.

One call to Bo later, and his older brother was coming out with the tow-truck and all of that oozing charm, like a shepherd leading the flock to the slaughter. Lester insisted that he keep you out of it — you were sweet, he could tell.

He liked that.

“He’s on his way,” Lester chimed, swiveling around to face you again. He stuck out his hand in greeting. “M’Lester, by th’way! It’s real nice to meet you, sugar. Say, if you’re bakin’ in the sun, could sit in m’truck with me while the rest do the heavy liftin’.” The offer was absolutely tempting to you.

You reached out, introducing yourself with a charming grin and another burst of bubbly laughter. “It’s nice to meet you, Lester. Thank you so much for all of your help, again. You’re an angel.” He was very kind and upbeat — Jesus, you even found him to be cute. “Are you sure? I really don’t want to be a bother.”

Lester grinned again, completely and utterly enamored with you as he waved a hand towards the truck. “I’m real sure, promise! Don’t want that pretty little face of yours t’melt right off. You can sit with me while Bo works his magic.” He insisted, opening up the door as a sign of invitation.

A pleasant wave of heat flooded throughout your body — and while you thought it was from the weather, it was from Lester’s subtle flirtation. You couldn’t help but giggle, nose wrinkling in amusement as you climbed up into his truck. Lester stood behind you, shamelessly admiring the way your dress fit you, from lovely curves to the faintest glimpse of your thighs.

As you crawled into the cabin, you noticed the morbid array of bone and rope dangling from the top mirror. The inside smelled of stale blood, damp dirt, and the faint scent of cigarettes. You folded one leg over the other, swiping away a thin layer of sweat that built up along the back of your neck.

A tow truck came soaring down the road, rickety and beat-up. The driver wore a mechanic’s uniform and a ball cap — you assumed it was Bo, the man Lester was referring to. “M’gonna drive us back down to the bend. No reason for you t’walk.” He mused, hopping in beside you as he started the engine.

The truck roared to life, and Lester maneuvered the vehicle out of the gas station, whipping it back around to approach the swampy wash where your caravan had gotten stuck at.

“Have you lived here your whole life?” You asked, head canting to one side. You leaned up against the door, palm tucked underneath your chin. Whenever you weren’t looking, you were completely oblivious to Lester’s constant ogling of your body.

He kept one hand perched atop the patchwork, leather-covered steering wheel, the other resting along the edge of the window. “Mostly,” Lester piped up, letting out a low whistle. “Ambrose ain’t on the map. Hard for anybody to come out this way without lookin’ real close.” He replied, truck slugging along at a crawl.

“It’s pretty out here,” You hummed, tracing a finger along the dashboard, collecting a layer of dust in the process. “I wouldn’t want to leave. You’ve got everything you need here in town. It’s peaceful.” When you adjusted your position, your dress hitched just a little higher.

“Yer welcome t’stay, if y’like it so much.” Lester mused, which got you to laugh. As tempting as it sounded, nestled away within the Louisiana wilderness, you knew that your friends would go against it. “They even got a beauty pageant, Miss Ambrose.”

Intrigued, you cocked your head to one side, letting out another giggle as you peered outside towards the forests. “A beauty pageant? I’ve never done one of those before. I’m sure I’d have plenty of competition.” You sighed, idly fiddling with the hem of your sundress. The jean jacket you were wearing over it only made you nearly collapse from heatstroke.

Lester grinned, a playful chuckle escaping him. “Naw, I think you’d win th’whole thing.” He was really laying on the compliments and old-fashioned charm, driving the truck down the path and around the bend. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen ‘round here!” Singing your praises was one way to get you flustered.

This was the last thing you ever expected, being hit on by a rugged stranger you’d just met. Nevertheless, the attention you were receiving was amazing, something you weren’t used to. “You’re really sweet.” You accepted the compliment without retort, idly preening your fingers over the top of your head.

By the time you’d gotten back to the wash, Lester’s brother was sitting in the cab of the tow-truck, attempting to haul the other vehicle out of the mud. You waved at your friend from the window as he put it into park, letting it idle. Josie and Tate happened to use it as something to lean on, but Lester didn’t say anything to protest.

“Ain’t you jus’ gorgeous?” Lester crooned, pinching the hem of your dress between his thumb and forefinger. Your skin felt abnormally hot, like a fever as you shifted in your seat, visibly sheepish to the man’s seemingly harmless flirting. “Real nice dress, too.”

“Thanks,” You mumbled, ducking your head as his knuckles innocently brushed over the top of your thigh. Goosebumps erupted in his wake, causing you to shiver as you averted your gaze. “Maybe I should get out and see if everything’s okay.” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Lester cocked his head to one side, eyes glittering with something indiscernible. The rough, calloused pads of his fingertips traced over your thigh. “Y’sure, sugar? I was thinkin’ you could stay here with me,” He mused, lips spitting into a toothy smirk. “Could make it worth yer while.” His voice was sickly-sweet, like honey.

Something hung heavy in the air — suffocating heat coupled with the flurry of tension crackling within the cab of Lester’s truck. Admittedly, you were more aroused than you should’ve been, given how forward and crass this was, but there was certainly a thrill in it.

You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, stealing another glance outside the window. Your friends were just outside of the truck — if you made too much noise or squirmed, they would notice. “What if somebody sees?” You whimpered, feeling a rush of oozing warmth coalesce between your thighs.

“Looks you’ll have t’be real quiet,” Lester hummed, hand prodding at your dress again. “Why don’t you go on an’ lift that up for me, gorgeous?” You shouldn’t have been this riled up and turned on for a complete stranger, but he was tempting — maybe it was his kind demeanor coupled with lust. You weren’t sure.

A fluttering sensation erupted throughout the pit of your stomach, prompting you to shift your thighs together as you began to shyly tug your dress up. Lester had subtly shifted closer, shorter than an arm’s length distance as you let some of the fabric pool around your hips.

There was some sick thrill you got with this, buried deep down — in hindsight, you shouldn’t have been entertaining this, but Lester seemed more than willing. You glanced toward the window, breath hitching when Josie glanced back at you with a puzzled expression.

To quell her concern, you swiftly gave her a thumbs-up, perspiration creeping along your spine as you subtly shifted a little closer to your new friend. His soft snickering filled the cab, calloused palm gingerly kneading into your thigh.

“Nice n’soft,” Lester mumbled, Southern drawl dropping to a hushed octave. “Y’feel like velvet.” His compliment made you shiver with anticipation, legs parting as you shyly began to ruck the skirt of your dress up. He leaned in, giving your hair a sniff — you smelled sweet, like a fresh bouquet of honeyed flowers.

You swallowed the lump within your throat, angling yourself a little more in his direction, enough to remain inconspicuous. Lester traced his hand along your thigh, drinking in the feeling of your velveteen complexion underneath his fingertips.

Without missing a beat, you sluggishly placed your hand atop his, guiding it toward the heat coalescing between your legs. Lester appeared surprised, cracking another bemused grin as you let his fingers settle along the waistband of your panties. You were desperate, wriggling atop the sticky leather beneath you.

Your fingers curled into the seat, chest tight with a familiar fluttering once his fingers finally crossed the threshold, slipping beneath the thin, cotton material. He nudged your legs further apart, deliberately stroking at your cunt, toying with you just a little bit. “D’aw,” He crooned. “That all fer me?”

Part of you wanted to simply melt into a pile of nothingness, lips parted as a sweet moan escaped you. His touches were tantalizing, feather-light and leaving you aching for more. “Y—Yeah,” You sighed, keeping your voice low as Lester pushed past your folds, two digits beginning to glide against your cunt. “Keep going.” You mewled.

Lester rarely, if ever, did anything like this.

Admittedly, once he saw you, that beautiful beam of sunshine, he had to have you — he wanted to keep you for himself, too. Your willingness to let him touch you made you all the more tempting, something to be coveted, worshiped. Lester would do it all for you if you’d let him.

Quietly, he obeyed your breathy command, ministrations becoming more vigorous. His fingers were erratic and choppy, sloppily sliding across your cunt with a fervor. You didn’t care, lulled into submission by the myriad of sensations, pleasure rippling throughout your stomach.

Your gaze occasionally flickered toward the outside of the truck, but your worry of getting caught was steadily subsiding. Lester’s calloused digits glided along your slit, moving up until they found that clutch of sensitive nerves buried between your thighs. His thumb sluggishly circled your clit, causing your hips to jolt forward.

“S’at feel nice?” His drawl had dropped into a husked purr, voice wrought with desperation. Lester liked having this level of control over you, but he enjoyed seeing your reactions even more. Embarrassment washed through you, knowing how insane this scenario seemed.

A sweet whimper tore past your lips, and you nodded your head, attempting to keep the gesture subtle. You wanted more, shifting your thighs together to relieve some tension until Lester prodded you with his knee. He began to rub at your clit, prompting you to press the back of your hand over your mouth.

Lester snickered, swatting your hand away. “Don’t keep those sounds from me, sugar. You’re jus’ so pretty like this.” He murmured, causing you to bite at your lower lip. Your thighs shook, cunt throbbing and oozing with liquid heat as he continued to touch you.

There was a thump against the front of the truck, nearly making you leap out of your own flesh, hastily covering your lap with your jean jacket. It was just Cody, huffing and puffing as Lester’s brother continued to try and pull the truck out of the mud.

“W—We should probably stop,” You whimpered, voice low and hushed, attempting to grab at his wrist, but Lester stopped you. “Lester, please.” The terror of being caught outweighed pleasure, but he shushed you, tugging you just a little closer, until you were nearly leg-to-leg in the cab.

“Jus’ keep quiet, sweetheart. They ain’t gonna catch us, swear.” He reassured you, coercing you into a more docile state — admittedly, he really wanted to make you cum on his fingers. Lester was hellbent to receive that from you, whether you protested or not.

As much as your mind screamed at you to stop, you wanted to keep going. You nodded, still keeping the jacket tucked within your lap, but Lester nudged it aside, wanting to watch everything. Your dress was all disheveled and ruffled around your hips, panties halfway down your thighs.

You began to squirm, hips jolting and spasming into the sensation of his hand, nails digging into the old, cracked leather of the truck’s frayed cushions. Your mind stopped worrying so much, submitting to basic desire and instinct, letting pleasure hold the reins as he flicked his thumb around your clit.

Honey-sweet arousal pooled between your legs, coating Lester’s digits in a fine sheen. You almost pleaded for him to come back when he withdrew his hand, watching with complete and utter shock as he licked his fingers, saturated in saliva. The noises he made were crass and somewhat lewd. “Taste jus’as good as y’look.” He murmured.

A molten wave of heat dropped right into the pit of your stomach, prompting you to whimper as his fingers hotly returned to your core. He was vigorous this time, using those spittle-slathered digits to invade your cunt, pushing two fingers inside of you as he began to piston them in and out. His rhythm was intense, and you nearly clamped your thighs together.

Your limbs felt heavy, weighed-down by the waves of ecstasy that consume you, as if dragging you down to the bottom of an ocean. You can barely distinguish what’s happening outside of the truck — you don’t care anymore, either.

This stranger fingerfucking you in his cab is all you can concentrate on.

Another soft, throaty moan escaped you, tearing past your parted lips as you rolled your hips sporadically, in-tandem with the motion of his fingers. They pushed inward, nearly knuckle-deep inside of your cunt before dragging out halfway, only to ram right back in. You sighed, pleasure scrawled all over your face.

Lester kept a watchful eye out, knowing that Bo would take his sweet time, damage your friend’s truck in the process. He was happy to have snatched you up when he did, gaze flickering toward you. Your body was contorted with delight, a glistening sheen of perspiration shimmering along your collarbone.

Tension crackled through the air, and you were none the wiser to Lester’s little plot to keep you. His thumb toyed and circled your clit, pouring fuel on the fire as your hips bucked forward again. “M’close,” You whimpered through the dizzying carnality, knuckles tense and tight as you clawed at the seat. “Oh, Lester! S—Shit, please don’t stop!” You squeaked.

He was enthralled, as if trained to obey your every wish. He didn’t slow down, keeping the same pace, fingers scissoring in and out of your weeping cunt. The thick scent of arousal hung heavy in the cab, intermingled with that of fresh earth and a coppery twang from the blood of roadkill, baking away in the back of the truck.

The thin straps of your pretty dress began to sag upon your shoulders, giving way to the faintest glimpse of your breast. If it weren’t for the oblivious audience outside of the truck, Lester would’ve been sucking on your chest. Instead, he settled for a brief peek of your heaving tits, and nothing more.

When the truck rattled, you barely paid it any mind — just your friends sagging against it. Lester snickered, opting to add a third finger, if it were a possibility. “Can y’handle another, sugar? Yer almost there.” He whispered, and when your friend began to step back towards the passenger door for shade, your eyes went as wide as saucers.

Again, Lester silenced your worry with the softest coos and gentle shushes, thumb working away at your clit as he attempted to wriggle a third digit inside of you. You were all wound up, chasing after your orgasm as you turned your face away, skin feverishly hot, as if you’d been scorched by the Louisiana sunshine.

As soon as Lester’s fingers rocked into your cunt for the umpteenth time, curling just slightly, you were gone — wasting away in a white-hot explosion. The tension within your stomach unfurled as you coated his digits in your slick nectar, huffing and puffing as you attempted to compose yourself.

“Lester, Lester,” The breathy, hushed way in which you whimpered his name made him want to devour you. Your cunt clenched pathetically around his fingers as he withdrew them, watching the tension unfurl from your body. You looked embarrassed and downright flustered, having made a mess of his seat. “M’sorry.”

“Sorry?” Lester cajoled, grinning a toothy, bemused smile as he began to lick his fingers clean. “Don’t gotta apologize none for that. Jus’ do it again sometime.” He teased, watching as you hastily covered your lap with your jean jacket when your friend thumped a hand against the window.

“Hey, we’re going up to this guy’s house. He said he has a tire that we can borrow, one on the truck is flat. Are you coming?” Josie asked, ogling Lester with skepticism and a high degree of disgust, too.

You gasped, heart pounding erratically in your chest. As you opened your mouth to answer, Lester interjected on your behalf.

“Yer friend here is goin’ through a bad wave of heatstroke. I’m gonna drive ‘er back t’my place an’ get her some water. It’s a cabin ‘long the path, you can’t miss it.” Lester confirmed, but Josie looked at you for an answer instead.

You nodded several times over, mustering up a smile after having experienced one of the best highs of your life. Pretending that you hadn’t let him touch you just moments ago made you feel strange. “I’ll be alright, Josie. You guys can meet me at his place once the truck is all fixed up.”

Josie nodded and reluctantly moved away from the window, joining Tate and Cody as the three of them followed Bo towards the tow truck. You were impervious and oblivious to the fact that this would be the last time you would ever see your friends alive.

Fortunately for Lester, he had other intentions.

He started the truck again, peering toward you with a twinkle in his eye — it wasn’t the same high-spirited, innocuous man you’d encountered at the gas station. This gleam was different — obsessive, possessive, and absolutely enamored with you.

“Why don’t we see what we can do about this heatstroke of yours, sugar?”

[slashersidewhore]

Slashers! S/O hurt by a victim pt.2

Slashers x gn!reader

Includes Billy Loomis, Bubba Sawyer, Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair

Requested? Yes

Warnings: beefy murder boyfriends, hurt/comfort, minor angst, injuries, blood, fluffy shit

Billy Loomis

It was partially his fault, he was careful but didn’t always think everything through

That’s why you were currently in the clutches his supposed to be victim, knife held to your neck, you could feel warmth from your blood seep down the blade and beneath the collar of your shirt. Struggling only made the situation worse, although you couldn’t help the small gasp as more pressure was applied to your current wound

Feral. You’d never seen Billy’s eyes filled with such a look of utter insanity. He’d done despicable things, ruined lives, played with people like they were just there for his entertainment, but this, seeing you so close to the edge he sent so many others, was the final straw to snap whatever piece of him was remotely still human

He fingers clasped the knife tighter in his grasp, curling around the hilt and wishing he could drive it into your captors jugular

“They ain’t part of this!”

Brows pushed down, mouth pulled in a snarl, he went to take the risk and lunge before a choking sound cut the tension rising in the kitchen in half, your body stumbling towards Billy by instinct, comforted by the way he dropped the knife with a clatter and wrapped his arms around your body, hurried to get you as close as possible

Stu stood at the other end of the tiled floor, half smile glimmering as he stared down at the man he’d just disposed of from life

You curled further into your boyfriends chest, unable to shake the fear you’d felt moments before, still able to feel the cold metal pressing into your flesh. One of Billy’s hands worked it’s way up your trembling back, cupping your face as to direct your eyes to his. They were warm, vacant, yet warm when they landed on your wide eyed expression

“That’ll never happen again, you hear me? Never.”

Letting you push your face back into his neck, the killer began rubbing soft circles on your spine, cold gaze frozen on the still body mere feet away. If looks could kill, the man would have several more stab wounds, each more painful than the last

Billy’s eyes fell to the blade he’d planned on using, head tilting ever so slightly as he pondered how it wouldn’t be out of his way to inflict a few lacerations across the face that even would dare to breathe beside you

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba didn’t like you being around victims, during times where he was killing he got reckless, so dazed in his mind and it constantly worried him that in such a state he could mistake you for another and cause you harm

That being said, mistakes happen

Bubba was standing in a bloody puddle, leaking from the headless body beside him. Loose, brown curls fell in his face as he shook his head held by his rough palms, almost cradling himself. He’d been fooled by one of his potential victims, ending up with him alone with a dead body, and someone missing who knew too much.

The others were gonna rip him a new one, he didn’t even want to think about the look on your face. You’d look at him with such pity, you had yet too thus far, but he just knew that expression was soon to fall on your face. How couldn’t it?

The negative wave of thoughts dragging Bubba down were sliced through by a piercing scream, a chill running down his spine before he realized who’s voice it was who made such a sound, he’d recognize it anywhere

No amount of debris, rickety stairs, tables or chairs could keep Bubba from getting to you, all knocked from his path as the lumbering, masked man ran the fastest his legs would go, chainsaw alive and buzzing in his ear

Bubba didn’t even take a second to pause as he took in the scene, still running full force like his life depended on it. Anguish filled his veins, the victim was straddling your cowering body, arms raised to protect against their assault of punches, they were screaming something he didn’t care to hone in on, focused on getting the offender off and away from you

All he saw was red, on his arms, the creases of his hands soaking into the soles of his boots, digging past the fabric at the knee of his pants as he knelt down, pushing the limp, torn and mangled body from atop of you. Fingers trembling, Bubba paused as you sat up in shock, clothing and skin flushed with blood. Scooting until your body was closer to the man, you crumpled into his embrace, letting you arms fall limp, nose digging into his shoulder. Calloused hands clutched the shirt on your back, tugging you closer, you could feel his soft, unintelligible mutters and whimpers pliant into your collar bone

The two of you just sat there, not wanting to be away from each other for even a second after such a close call

Bo Sinclair

Unlike Bubba, Bo likes you beside him nearly every minute. Yeah, sometimes he’s an asshole, but that’s just one of the traits you’ve come to accept as part of the man you love

It was between the moments where you weren’t stuck to his side, or sitting off within his view, that you realized you were at your most vulnerable, unfortunately we all have a lesson that teaches us such

“Where the fuck are my friends?”

A rough, gritty voice yelled from behind you, catching your moment of silence off guard, spinning around, your heart dropped to your stomach as your eyes landed on what you recognized as one of Bo’s victims standing with squared shoulders, but what made it worse was the fact they were holding a gun

The stranger only seemed to seethe with further rage at the look of your confused face, mouth opening and closing like a fish, eyes wide as the gun raised and their finger went to the trigger

Right as the blaring ring of a shot went off, you were thrown to the side by a heavy weight, body landing on the ground with a dull thud and two large hands blocking the bulk of the impact, hands that were gone from your body a second later, dark shadow leaving frame quick as light as loud footsteps echoed after it

“You son of a bitch!”

You knew that voice, rolling over to gaze at the scene right at Bo tackled the victim to the ground, straddling their body and delivering punch after punch, unable to see his face but hearing the loud curses and violent statements he let fly recklessly

Concern, wide eyes found your similarly large ones, knuckles torn and clothes splattered with red. The mechanic practically folded down into you, forehead coming to press against yours, Bo’s thumbs pressed into the skin under each of your ears, tilting your chin up

“Are ya’ alright baby?”

You could only nod, frightened to think you’d nearly been shot, yet comforted by the warm embrace of the killer, his usual stoic gaze softened, searching you over for any scrapes or cuts. Lips press to the crown of your head, you could lightly hear his inhaling your scent, sighing from the exhaustion of the ordeal

“You’re never leaving my sight again”

Lester Sinclair

Lester doesn’t get himself caught up with Bo and Vincent’s business most the time, in fact as much as a talker the man is, he does like to keep to himself

That’s why it’s a surprise when you’re chilling in the passenger seat of the mans car, mindlessly flipping through a magazine, when an unfamiliar voice enters the warm, afternoon air

“Listen buddy, my friends have been gone for hours and you’re the last person they saw, start talking”

You can see out the pickup trucks window the back of someone facing Lester, their fists clenched as he drops the current task at hand. His gaze darts to you, over their shoulder, and it widens when the stranger whips around, hand on the car door handle, throwing it open

“Get out, I’m taking the car”

Your arm is roughly grasped at the bicep, stumbling over your feet when you’re tossed to the leaf covered ground, wincing at your knee slices against a rock. Eyes squeezing shut at the pain, you didn’t even notice the quick steps of Lester behind you, his shadow looming over yours on the ground as a howl of pain became present. In seconds, the once standing stranger slumped to the ground beside you, cold eyes glazed over, a rather vicious yet precise cut to the base of their throat

“Aw darl’, yer knees all cut up”

Lester mumbled, squatting to your height as he looked over the damage, eyes big and clearly worried. Unsettled, that was the best way to describe the look plastered across the mans face, mouth pulled in a deep frown. Still in shock from being so manhandled out of your seat, you wrapped your arms around his neck, nuzzling the underside of his jaw. Never mind the dirt and sweat that caked his skin, it was comforting at this point

“Never lettin’ someone push ya around like that again, ya hear me?”

His rough palms rubbed the expanse of your back, glancing down at the body still inches away growing colder by the minute

“Let’s take care of that knee”

Requests open!

[slasher-male-wife]

Slashers when you succumb to Stockholm syndrome part three

So part one and two are really popular so I thought I would make a third part with more characters. These are kind of shorter because there's more characters but I still hope y'all like them.

Includes: Bubba Sawyer, Harry Warden, Asa Emory/The Collector, Lester Sinclair, and Danny Johnson/Ghostface

Warnings: Kidnapped reader, Stockholm syndrome, manipulation kind of, possessive language, Asa compares reader to a butterfly, petnames used

Bubba Sawyer

It's time for breakfast and Bubba gets up out of bed. He looks down at you with a smile. You've been staying with the Sawyers for almost a month and you've given up on fighting and screaming and trying to run away a week ago. But today when you stretch and wake up you look at Bubba with a smile.

"Good morning Bubba. I hope you slept well," You tell him. Bubba smiles and goes back over to his bed. You sit up and he pulls you into a hug, and you hug him back much to his delight, "I'm hoping there's something I can do to help out today, I haven't been pulling my weight around here very much."

Bubba doesn't understand your change but he's so happy you love him that he's able to look past it. He presses a kiss to your forehead and goes back to getting ready for the day. Your smile stays wide on your face as you get ready with him. He's also happy that you're comfortable changing in front of him.

"I'm really grateful that you've been taking care of me like this. I honestly needed this for awhile. I love you Bubba, I really do." Your smile stays genuine and you hug him again. He hugs you back with a delighted squeal.

When you're both done Bubba takes your hand in his and walks with you downstairs. He can't wait to tell his brothers that you're officially in love with him.

Harry Warden

Harry was stalking you for weeks before he finally professed his love for you on Valentines day. When you rejected him and tried to run away he had no choice but to take you back to his house and keep you there where you'll be safe with him.

It's been a few weeks since then and Harry's coming back home early in the morning. He gets in the house and goes into the room he keeps you in. He finds you sleeping on the mattress he gave you. He walks over and lays down next to you. You sleepily turn over and wrap your arms around him with a sigh.

Harry is caught off guard but he soon returns your affection. You run your hands over the material of his coveralls and rest your head against his chest.

"You know I was so scared of you before. But I know that you never meant to hurt me. You just love me, and I love you too." You tell him. Harry is overjoyed to hear this news. He holds you tighter against him and runs a hand over your hair. He has a suspicion that you're experiencing Stockholm syndrome, but he doesn't care. All he cares about is that you finally love him back.

He starts to think about the life the two of you can live together now that you're in love with him. It doesn't matter if it's manipulated or not, you're his and that's all that he wants from you.

Asa Emory/The Collector

It's eight pm and it's time for Asa to check in on you again. He's been keeping you at the hotel for a month at this point. You stopped trying to escape and scream for help your first week here. Asa also gave you a journal to write in. Of course he checks it every day. Today the check in started normally.

Asa unlocks and opens your door. He steps in and finds you sitting on your bed like he's told you to do when he comes to check on you. He spends a few minutes looking around the room and gives you a pat on the shoulder when he sees that you've kept it clean and haven't tried to hide anything from him.

He picks up your journal and flips to today's page, where he finds you outright admitting your love for him. He saw the beginning of your Stockholm syndrome developing in your journal entries and actions a week ago but now he sees that you're fully in it now. He slightly smiles as he reads your entry and shuts your journal. He sets it back on your dresser and walks over to you. He looks down at you and caresses your cheek with a gloved hand.

"I hope you know I'm keeping you here because you're like a beautiful, rare creature. You're my prized possession, the rarest butterfly in my collection. I'm happy to see you've accepted your place here with me." You smile up and him.

"I'm happy you think I'm so worthy of being yours." Asa lets out a soft chuckle and pats your head. This is going to be a very fun experiment for him.

Lester Sinclair

Today is the first day that you've had free roam of the house while Lester was out. He has his ways of making sure you stay at the house. He's been out all day but he's periodically had Vincent check in on you. When he got back home and smelled something cooking concern grew in his body. He made his way to the kitchen and found you peacefully cooking.

It hits him that you've reached Stockholm syndrome after he puts together your recent affectionate behavior and now you're cooking like nothing is wrong. He can't deny the guilt he feels in his gut. You look over at him and smile. You set down your wooden spoon and walk over to him, giving him a hug.

"Welcome home Lester. I hope you're hungry. I'm making dinner tonight." You walk back over to your bowl and look down at an old cook book you found. Lester can't help but smile at your affection. That part of him that feels guilty starts to shrink as he watches you happily cook.

"Well I'm glad you're happy here peaches," He says with a smile of his own "If you keep acting like this I won't have to keep you locked up all the time ya know?" He walks over to you and stands behind you, wrapping his arms around you and looking over your shoulder.

"Really? I'd love that Lester. I feel like I need to start pulling my weight around here. Since you've been taking care of me for so long." He nods and presses a kiss on your cheek.

"Of course peaches, of course."

Danny Johnson/ Ghostface

After stalking you for weeks Danny finally took you to his cabin. He had to spend the first few days watching you and proving to you that there's no escaping him, no matter what you do. After a few weeks of living with him you started to exhibit signs of Stockholm syndrome. He recognized this and kept track of it.

It's early morning when he gets back to the cabin. He walks into your room and watches you tossing and turning in your sleep. A few moments later you sit up in bed panicking. Tears fall down your cheeks and you rush over to hug him. He hesitates briefly before he hugs you back.

"I was having an awful nightmare and I couldn't wake up! I was so scared I felt like I was going to die!" You sob to him. He can't help but smile to himself as you hold him for comfort.

"It's alright, it's alright. I'm here now, don't worry Y/N I'm here for you now," He runs a hand over your hair and looks down at you through the mask, "I'd never let anything bad happen to you doll. I promise." You sniffle and look up at him while you're still holding onto him.

"You promise? Do you love me as much as I love you?" You ask him. Danny smiles and nods his head. He knows you're not really in love with him. That this is just Stockholm syndrome. But why should he care? You don't know the difference at this point.

"Of course doll. I love you too."

[small-sinclair]

But like kissing Sinclairs before they leave for work. You can read this as poly! x reader:

Bo leaving to work down at the shop, so you follow him to the door and kiss him twice: first to remind him you love him and second to say goodbye. But it sometimes ends up with him kiss your neck, jaw, lips, cheeks, so you gently have to pushes on his chest so he’s not late. His eyes shine down at you and leaves you with a kiss.

Vincent finishing his coffee and getting his sketches ready. You kiss him on the cheek then on his lips before he goes down. Signing, he promises to be back for dinner, but he takes your hand. His thumb smooths over his skin and he smiles under his mask at you, but you can see it in his lone eye. He kisses your hand and leave for the basement.

Lester running late on his run, but you already made his lunch and coffee in his thermostat (the one with the animal stickers :3 ). He gives you a quick kiss, but it’s not good enough. So you pull him by the waist and give him a real kiss, passionate and all. After pulling away, you tell him to drive safe and be home soon. Lester has never worked so hard and fast in his life every time he gets a kiss like that.

[zapreportsblog]

❝forgotten memories❞

✭ pairing : Lester Sinclair x reader x Bo Sinclair x Vincent Sinclair

✭ fandom : slashers

✭ summary : whiles out hunting Lester comes across a beaten and battered young lady in serious need of medical attention so what does he do? He takes the little lass back to his hometown to get treated by his brothers, but she happens to wake up and at first they expect her to freak out since she’s surrounded by three men but the only thing on her mind is why can’t she remember anything but her name

✭ authors note : art work by @kasiawoe found it on Pinterest also this was requested by @shadowraven-02 you sent this in to @fandomnationwhore a while back and I’m here to fulfill it since I’ve taken over doing some of their top requests :) if at any moment you wish to be untagged, do inform me as I have no problem with it I just thought I’d tag you and let you read what you sent in

✭ slasher masterlist

Lester Sinclair had always found solace in the woods. The dense canopy of trees, the gentle rustling of leaves, and the distant calls of woodland creatures were a symphony of tranquility. It was his sanctuary, a place where he could escape the demands of his hectic life and find a sense of peace.

On this crisp autumn morning, with the sun barely peeking over the horizon, Lester set out for a hunting expedition. He carried his rifle with practiced ease, each step taken with a careful consideration of his surroundings. His brothers, Bo and Vincent, would join him later, but for now, he relished the solitude.

As he ventured deeper into the forest, Lester's keen eyes caught sight of something unusual amidst the fallen leaves. There, sprawled on the ground, was an unconscious young woman. Her clothes were torn, and her face was marred by a bleeding wound on her forehead. It was a sight that sent a jolt of concern through Lester.

Kneeling beside her, he carefully examined her condition. She was still breathing, albeit shallowly, which was a relief. Gently, he brushed her hair away from her face, revealing her pale complexion. Concern etched his features as he noticed the deep bruises marring her arms and legs. It was clear that she had been through some kind of ordeal.

Lester's instinct to help kicked in immediately. He knew he couldn't leave her here, injured and alone in the woods. Carefully, he reached into her pocket and found her wallet. Opening it, he discovered her identification. Her name was (Y/N), a medical student still in college.

With determination in his eyes, Lester decided to take action. He scooped her fragile form into his arms, cradling her gently. She was surprisingly light, making it easier for him to carry her. As he began to make his way back to his pickup truck, he couldn't help but wonder how she had ended up in such a dire situation.

The journey back to his home felt like an eternity, the forest passing by in a blur of green and brown. Lester's mind raced with questions, but his primary focus was ensuring (Y/N)'s safety. He knew his brothers would be just as concerned as he was when they saw her.

When he finally reached the old, rustic house that he shared with Bo and Vincent, Lester carefully carried (Y/N) inside. The warmth of the living room enveloped them, a stark contrast to the cool autumn air outside. With great care, he laid her down on the couch, his worry deepening as he took a closer look at her injuries.

Bo had been planning to join Lester for the hunting trip, but he arrived later than expected. He pushed open the creaky front door of their rustic home, a cheerful greeting on his lips. "Lester, you out here, buddy?" he called, stepping into the warm and cozy living room.

His voice trailed off when he laid eyes on the unexpected scene before him. His gaze fixed on the unconscious girl lying on the couch, her disheveled appearance a stark contrast to the familiar surroundings.

"Who the hell is she?" Bo blurted out, his voice tinged with some kind of emotion though Lester wasn’t sure what.

Lester turned toward his brother, his eyes filled with a mixture of worry and confusion. "I found her out back in the woods," he explained, "She was unconscious, and there are bruises on her, and she had this nasty wound on her forehead."

Just as their argument started to brew, the connection between the twins kicked in. Vincent, who had been working away in the basement workshop, felt Bo's growing frustration through their twin link. He abandoned his tools and made his way upstairs, his face a mask of concern. He signed, asking if everything was alright.

Bo's agitation was clear in his voice as he responded to Vincent's silent inquiry. "No, Lester here is putting us all in danger."

Lester frowned at Bo's accusation. "How am I putting us in danger?" he retorted, his voice rising in frustration.

Their argument continued, voices escalating, as neither brother noticed the subtle movement on the couch. (Y/N) began to stir, her eyelids fluttering open. She blinked in confusion, disoriented by her surroundings and the voices she heard. Her vision was blurry at first, but gradually, the room came into focus.

Vincent, who had been watching the argument unfold, suddenly noticed her awakening. He took a step back, positioning himself between Bo and the girl, his curiosity piqued. He wanted to observe her reaction before drawing attention to her presence.

As (Y/N) began to regain consciousness, she felt a dull ache in her head, which sent a wince across her features. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the room, and as she sat up, she couldn't help but notice the three men now staring at her. Their expressions ranged from concern to curiosity, and she blinked owlishly at them, her confusion evident.

"Where am I?" she asked, her voice slightly shaky.

Lester, the one who had found her, stepped closer and replied, "You're in my home. We found you in the woods unconscious, and you had some injuries, so we brought you here."

(Y/N) furrowed her brow, trying to piece together the events leading to this moment. "How did I get here?" she wondered aloud.

Bo, ever the standoffish one, folded his arms and said, "That's exactly what I'd like to know too."

Vincent, who had been observing silently, stepped forward and signed a question, his hands gracefully moving through the air. However, (Y/N) was caught off guard by the unfamiliar gesture and simply responded with a confused "Huh?"

Lester quickly intervened, introducing his brother. "That's Vincent," he explained, "He was just asking if you're okay."

Still somewhat disoriented, (Y/N) nodded uncertainly. "I think so?" She winced again, a hand gingerly touching the bandage on her forehead. It was clear she had many questions, but her priority was trying to make sense of the situation and her surroundings.

“So how did you get out there.” Lester asks, he watches her brows clench and that’s when his concern deepened as he watched (Y/N) struggle to recall her recent past. He leaned closer and gently asked, "I mean do you remember how you ended up out here in the woods? You're pretty far from town."

(Y/N) closed her eyes, trying to summon any memories that could explain her current situation. However, her efforts were in vain, and her frustration grew as she shook her head, her voice trembling as she admitted, "No, I don't remember."

Bo, always quick with a sarcastic remark, couldn't resist but quip, "Does she even know anything?"

(Y/N), taking Bo's question more seriously than intended, felt panic start to creep in. She tried to think back to her life, her home, her studies, but everything seemed to be shrouded in darkness, leaving only her name as a lone beacon of familiarity. Tears welled up in her eyes as the realization sank in that she couldn't recall anything else.

Vincent, noticing (Y/N)'s distress, reacted impulsively. He smacked Bo on the arm and then swiftly signed at him, "Look, you made her cry."

Bo's temper flared. "I ain't do a goddamn thing to that girl!" he retorted, defensive.

Lester, always the voice of reason among the brothers, interjected firmly, "Enough, you two! We need to help her, not argue." He moved closer to (Y/N) and spoke in a soothing tone. "Hey, it's okay. We'll figure this out together. Take a deep breath."

He reached out to offer her a comforting hand on her shoulder, hoping to ease her panic and bring some clarity to the situation.

Lester gently held (Y/N) in his arms, offering her a comforting embrace as she cried out her fear and confusion. His heart went out to her as he whispered soothing words. "It's okay, (Y/N), you're safe here. Everything's going to be alright. This is just a hiccup in the road. You'll remember, I'm sure of it."

She clung to his words, her sobs gradually subsiding. In his arms, she found a flicker of solace amidst the storm of her lost memories and newfound uncertainty.

Meanwhile, Bo's frustration had not subsided. He was growing increasingly impatient and wary of the stranger in their midst. He couldn't shake the feeling that (Y/N) was a threat, not just to Ambrose, but to all of them.

In the quiet of the kitchen, Bo took Lester and Vincent aside, his tone hushed but determined. "We need to get rid of her," he declared, his voice filled with urgency.

Lester frowned deeply, appalled by his brother's suggestion. "Bo, we can't just... get rid of her. She's clearly in trouble, and we need to help her."

Bo's eyes narrowed, his frustration boiling over. "She's a danger to Ambrose, and she's a danger to us all. We don't know who she is or what happened to her. We can't trust her."

Vincent, ever the voice of empathy and caution, hesitated. He signed his thoughts, "We need to be careful, but killing her? Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”

Bo was unwavering. "Think about it, Lester. We have no idea who she is or what she's involved in. We can't risk our safety, or Ambrose's."

Lester shook his head firmly. "No, Bo. I won't do it. We'll help her, keep her safe until she remembers. We can't resort to violence."

The tension in the kitchen grew palpable, as the three brothers faced a difficult decision that would shape their future and the fate of the mysterious (Y/N).

Bo's frustration reached its peak, and he reluctantly conceded. "Fine," he grumbled, his jaw clenched. "But she's your responsibility, Lester."

With those words, Bo turned on his heel and stormed out of the kitchen, the door slamming shut behind him. Vincent, sensing his twin's anger and knowing that arguing further would only escalate the situation, hurriedly followed, hoping to calm Bo down and find some common ground.

Lester was left alone in the kitchen, his thoughts swirling as he watched his brothers leave. He knew that taking care of (Y/N) was a responsibility he was willing to shoulder, even if it meant facing uncertainty and danger. She needed their help, and he was determined to be there for her, no matter what challenges lay ahead.

[slasherhoe87]

Hi, sweetie. May I have Bubba sawyer, Thomas hewitt, michael Myers, bo, vincent, lester, Jason Voorhees, and brams heelshire. With s/o who is very submissive and will do anything to be able to have slasher sex. S/o also has high sex and always wears sexy clothes 👙👠💋 and lingerie. I hope this isn't too much for you but, what if you can't accept my request it's okay you can freely ignore my request. Your Blogs are treasure troves and very hard to find 😭.

Don't forget to take care of your health sweetie. Have a good day ❤

Hey Anon, sure I'll do this request for you. Hope you'll like it. However, like in my previous request with Norman amongst the other names, I'll have to skip Brahms as I don't know his character too well.

SLASHERS WITH A THIRSTY S/O:

Info: NSFW / Fem!Reader / mentions of breeding, light bdsm, medical play kinks

BUBBA SAWYER:

LOVES the tiny little denim shorts you wear. You have them in almost every colour and often wear a breezy little crop top with a plunging neckline to match them.

Whenever you skip into a room that Bubba's in, his eyes drink the sight of you up like lemonade on a hot texan day

Happy squeals galore when you giggle and jump into his big, meaty arms

You like to tease him when he's alone - whether he's in the basement, barn, your shared bedroom or anywhere really when the fam is not around

You'll call his name in a playful flirty manner and when he looks towards you, you'll quickly untie the strings of your crop top and flash him before running away

You manage to shock him with pure delight every single time you do it

You'll hear heavy, eager footsteps behind you as you run away, then you shriek in glee as you feel his large arms encircle your waist, lift you up and carry you somewhere secluded

Cue heavy make-out sessions if its day time and there's still work to be done. But if the day is over? You'll be tossed onto the bed like a ragdoll with an over-eager and lust-filled Bubba devouring you like the chocolates he loves so much

You can never get enough of this big, murderous puppy dog. Not his musky, sweat laden scent, not his big meaty body, nor his mop of dark hair and especially not his long, thicc cock

Bubba especially likes it when he lumbers upstairs after a hard day's work to find you lying on the bed, waiting for him while wearing the pretty lingerie sets he loves so much - the ones with butterfly or strawberry prints on them, with bows and frills - he ADORES them - cue more excited squealing and many, many orgasms by his skilled and eager mouth, hands and cock

As you do your chores for the day all you can think about is beautiful Bubba and his big fat cock.

When you REALLY can't hold your desire for Bubba at bay (which is more often than not) you'll slink down to the basement and give Bubba THAT look - the one that tells him that you're down there with him for that one little act you nor he can get enough of

He's still nervous as ever when you crawl under the table while he works, worried that one of the household will come down and catch the two of you

But the moment you wrap your warm, gloss stained lips around his hardening cock, all worries and fears leave him. His butchering momentarily forgotten as his sweet, lusty little y/n pleasures him like only she could

THOMAS HEWITT:

Like Bubba, just the sight of this big, sweaty, hard working man drives you insane with lust

You're always staring at his thick forearms littered in marks, scars and a smattering of dark hair - just knowing how strong those arms are, how easily they can lift a grown man, farming equipment, farm animals and heavy machinery drives you wild

Luda Mae often catches you staring heatedly at Tommy during dinner when he's all sweaty and grime covered from a hard day's work with a knowing smile

Luda Mae slyly encourages you and Tommy to spend lots of "quality" time together because she desperately wants a house filled with grandbabies

You however, see right through her. And not wanting children just yet, you secretly remain on birth control pills - because lord knows you would have been pregnant ages ago with how much cum Tommy shoots into you at a time

Your need for Tommy is insatiable - just the mention of his name causes your cunt to clench and drip with arousal

When Tommy is alone in the barn fixing up some farming equipment or tending to the animals you like to perch yourself up on one of the square hay bales in nothing but the short, little sundresses he loves so much

When he turns to look at you, you like to send him a mischievous smile and lift your dress, showing him that you're not wearing any underwear

Tommy always drops what he's holding and makes a beeline for you - just how you wanted.

Cue rough, animalistic barn sex. The bleating of the goats, the moos of the cows, the chains swinging above you, the scent of fresh hay, Tommy's laboured grunting above you, the sound of sweaty skin smacking against sweaty skin - it all brings about fast and intense orgasm after orgasm

You always leave the barn satisfied, thick cum and your own juices dripping from your gaping cunt (thanks to Tommy's sizeable girth), a slight limp to your gait

But your thirst for Tommy never fully quenches.

You eagerly await the night where you like to tease Tommy's eyes with some revealing lingerie - he is especially fond of the satin and lace emerald green set you have

You submit yourself to him, laying spread beneath his hefty weight, legs wide open, your wrists pinned above your head by a large, hot hand, Thomas pounding into you until those delicious tears stream down your cheeks from overstimulation.

This man is relentless. His body blessed with an immense pool of stamina from years of hard outdoor labour.

But even though your poor little pussy is puffy, red, swollen and stretched beyond limits you want more. Always more. And to ensure Tommy doesn't get any ideas about stopping and to get what you want - your belly swollen with his seeming never ending supply of cum, you need only whisper two words in his ear

"Breed me"

RZ MICHAEL MYERS:

You notice Michael is more hands-on with you and hovers around you more often when you wear those skin tight black mini dresses with the lace-up chest area and band print on the middle. He's especially fond of the KISS and Slipknot one

So in turn, to get Michael to engulf you with his touches and presence like you so desire, you wear them more often

You find yourself shopping a lot more for lingerie than you used to... Michael doesn't pull the lingerie off of you - he tears and rips the pieces off. Leaving the tiny bits of fabric destroyed on the floor before going to town on your eager body

You go to cheaper stores now for lingerie as you simply cannot afford to replace the expensive sets as often as you seem to need to

Michael likes you in black and red lingerie. The more obscene in design, the better. Think crotchless thongs, no material covering the breasts save for the nipples and pussy thongs too

They serve no purpose save for getting Mikey's cock hard and enticing his eyes

But you love it all the same. You crave the possessive and desire filled gaze you receive from Michael when your body is wrapped in the obscene garments

A present for him, that only he and he alone may see and unrwap

Your pussy moistens and aches at these thoughts

Before he can unwrap the gift that is you though, you tease him through predator/play games

You LIVE for Mikey chasing you through the house, his breathing heavy with excitement and lust, his sharp knife gleaming menacingly in the moonlight of the windows

An when he catches you, you nearly orgasm as he lifts you up against the wall with one hand held firmly against your throat. The other dragging his knife gently against your chest, over your pert nipples, down your stomach before eventually rubbing the blunt top of the tip of the cold blade against your throbbing clit until your sopping empty pussy clenches around nothing and you see stars from both oxygen deprivation and a mind blowing clitoral orgasm

You count the minutes while you're at work. All you can think of is your behemoth of a lover. His massive hands, his toned chest, those strong arms and thighs, his silky smooth long hair and those deceptively soft lips

When you get home, you'll both have a nice dinner and enjoy each other's company before you retire to your shared bedroom where you submit yourself to his power, his lust as his little fuck toy

You wouldn't have it any other way

BO SINCLAIR:

When you first made your relationship official, Bo told you exactly how he liked his woman to dress

Well, no fucking way were you gonna doll yourself up to look like an 80s bimbo who bar-hopped for a living with the big hair and leopard print

However, you did compromise and incorporated certain elements of that "style" into your own modern look

Bo was pleased as punch with the outcome and so were you

This beautiful man of yours likes to be fed snacks (particularly cherries, grapes and cheesy crackers) while he watches Nascar

You eventually get bored from the car racing and want to indulge in a far more fun sport with Bo. You always set his sports to record so he can watch later

He eventually notices your fingers slipping in a little deeper, lingering a little longer inside his hot, wet mouth as you pop another piece of fruit inside

Bo dons his signature smirk and turns his body towards you, a hand always placed on either your hip or thigh

"Feelin' a tad neglected there baby?"

You look up at him with puppy dog eyes and a pout (he loves that shit) and nod

"Well let's do somethin' 'bout that, hmm?" In one swift motion he has you slung over his broad shoulder and stomps upstairs to the bedroom for round after round of intense, rough sex

When you feel like giving Bo a real treat, you'll don skimpy leopard print lingerie and red lipstick. Wrapping yourself up in a black satin bathrobe you'll wait for him to come to bed and when he enters the bedroom and sees you in that robe with that particular coy smile, he knows he's in for one of his favourite things: a lap dance

No longer does Bo have to drive two towns over to the strip club - not when he has his beautiful baby in his life now

Bo is always mesmerized by the slow sultry sway of your plush hips, the way your pretty eyes bore into his own - that look you give him says that you're his and only he could ever get the pleasure of watching you dance so intimately for him

Not a day goes past when you don't find yourself slinking into Bo's garage, craving his firm, rough touch

Quickies in the small office of the garage are a must. If you don't get Bo to pound into you on his desk for whatever reason then your mood is soured for the rest of the day

But rest assured y/n - if Bo has been busy all day and was unable to indulge your needy desire for him, then he'll more than make it up for you tonight in your shared bedroom

VINCENT SINCLAIR:

On many nights you'll often be in Vincent's basement, sweat coated from the heat of the room, laying posed on his sofa in black lingerie with various nature or dark bohemian prints on them while he takes photos, videos and makes sketches of you

Your eyes drink up every inch of this talented man

You close your eyes for a moment picturing those large, artist's hands of his on your body... massaging, caressing, tracing, fondling.. you sigh and squeeze your thighs together, growing wet at the thought of his touch

Eventually Vincent notices your heated stare and the way you clench your thighs together. With a smirk behind his wax mask he puts his pencils or paint brushes down and stalks towards you, intending to reward you for your patience as his muse

Expect silky caresses and deep, passionate fucking from this masked man

On nights when you're feeling particularly starved for dangerous thrills you offer Vincent to indulge in a game of predator/prey

He's always eager

Adrenaline pumps through both of your bodies as he stalks and chases you throughout Ambrose

Where a heady mix of fear and arousal courses through your veins, Vincent's are flowing with power, anticipation and a deep primal lust

When caught, you'll always shriek from a short burst of terror from Vincent's strong, hot grip on your biceps, waist or shoulders

If he doesn't savagely fuck you right then and there then he'll places his large hand over your mouth and hauls you kicking with muffled screams down to the basement where he first strips you of all your clothing, then restrains you on the waxy metal table

Your chest rises and falls heavily with both fear and lusty eagerness as Vincent indulges in hot wax and medical play with your prone and helpless bare form

You can't ever complain about your very active sex life with Vincent. He gives you exactly what you need, when you need it - no questions or hesitations

If you want it soft and passionate? You have it. Dark and extreme? He's more than happy to provide that too

Suffice it to say, you are very happy in Ambrose living with your masked lover

LESTER SINCLAIR:

You drive Lester WILD with your daisy dukes and cowboy boots

He CANNOT keep his eyes or his hands off of you when you wear them - which is exactly what you wanted

This dirty, crazy little opossum of a man makes your blood run molten hot with his cheeky smiles and mischievous eyes

And those hands! Those lithe, hard working hands are too skillful for their own good - not that your tits or pussy is complaining...

Seeing as you work evening shift at the gas station you like to ride with Lester in his truck during the day while he clears up roadkill and makes deliveries to Ambrose for his weird brothers

While in the truck you glance at Lester's thighs, then at their junction

You lick your glossed lips and gently place your hand on his thigh. He smiles to you and squeezes your hand before his eyes are back on the road

Your returned smile however is not quite as innocent

You swiftly lean down over to Lester's lap, unbuckle his belt and pull down the zipper of his worn out old jeans and whip out his cock

Poor Lester never knows how you manage to do all of that so quickly

His cheeks redden and his breath quickens

"Baby" he breaths out as you lick him from balls to tip

The truck swerves a little but Lester is quick to bring it back under control

"Darlin' you're killin' me here" his tone says disapproval yet his hand is firm on the back of your head pushing your mouth further down his throbbing, weeping dick

You found yourself humming in contentedness - the vibrations from your throat causing his cock to pulse in your hot, wet mouth. Few things gave you more pleasure than your mouth being plugged by Lester's veiny cock

Eventually Lester can't take it anymore and would bring the truck to an abrupt stop down a small unused trail off the road and into the woods

He'd then lean his head back against the seat's headrest and let out a stream of praises with a few words of degradation here and there

"You're doin' so well darlin'"

"That's it.... yeah, just like that"

"You take my cock so well in that purdy little mouth 'o yours"

"You're such a slut for my cock huh baby?"

You moan and take him even deeper at his words - you were right where you belonged

This as usual eventually leads to him taking you hot and rough on the back of his truck. With you either leaning forwards against the back of the cab or you on your back on the truck bed

If you asked nicely Lester would sometimes hold his bowie knife to your throat while he mercilessly pounds into your greedy wet cunt

As far as lingerie goes, Lester goes wild for that baby pink set with the fluffy trim and pompom strings

The man can't keep his eyes and hands away from your form when you're wrapped in those little pieces of fabric.

He'll snap a shot or two of you in the set with his polaroid and keep it with his other photos of you behind his truck's sun visor

When Lester picks you up at the gas station at night when your shift ends you both like to drive to his favourite spot overlooking the woods. You'll chat and stargaze for a while before the two of you indulge in soft love-making, relieved by a cool breeze tempering the warm humid air and cacophony of the Louisiana wildlife surrounding you

JASON VOORHEES:

Please don't tease this big innocent baby

His pure, precious little heart (and dick) simply can't take it

He just about drops his hammer when he's fixing the window pane in the front of your shared cabin when he looks over his shoulder to see you sitting comfortably on the lawn chair in nothing but a tiny spring green bikini with little daisy prints, facing him with a glass of iced tea

"Keep at it babe... I'm just admiring the view" You say, as a fat drop of sweat runs down your neck and between your perky breasts

Jason's good eye follows that drop of sweat before he gulps and tries to go back to concentrating on the task at hand

You internally giggle at his flustered form and visible tenting of the crotch of his work pants

Teasing this big, sweet, easily flustered murder man is a guilty pleasure of yours

But you just can't help yourself. When you see his bulging muscles strain behind his shirts as he performs chores around the cabin or his thicc, strong thighs and meaty behind test the strength of his pant seams you go feral with need for him and his huge veiny cock

You just have to be patient with his initial timidness and embarrassment when initiating sexy times as this poor baby has a lot of issues with sex thanks to his strict christian upbringing

But once you get past those hurdles your Jason turns into a feral grizzly bear in the sheets

You can't walk properly for hours once he's done with you

Before he comes back at night from ruining the lives of once happy campers, you slip on his favourite set of lingerie for you - the baby blue ones with the cherub and cloud prints and wait for him on your shared bed, ready to alleviate the tension and stress from his powerful body

Taking a stroll through the woods alongside the lake in the late afternoon hand in hand you sigh happily and smile up at your sweet Jason. He looks down at you and by the crinkle of the corner of his eye behind his mask, you know he's smiling back at you

Suddenly you push Jason against a broad, sturdy tree

He's momentarily shocked by your action until his thoughts all go to mush as you drop to your knees on the moist soil of the forest floorbed and whip his quickly hardening cock out of his pants

Jason groans behind his mask as you take the swollen, pink head of his cock in your mouth and suckle for a few moments - his large hands flying out to grip your head

Cue lots of garbled nonsense, groans, whimpers and moans to be heard amongst the sounds of the forest for the next while

Eventually you're rewarded by being roughly shoved face first against the tree, your short skater dress gets lifted up and you hear another groan from Jason as he sees your bare bottom and slick cunt

Your loud moans, cries and gasps join the cacophony of the forest as Jason ruthlessy pounds into your pussy

Your nails scratch at the bark of the tree, tears stream down your cheeks at his relentess and bone rattling pace

"Yes Jason! Yes fuck FUCK fuck... baby you're doing so fucking good"

You play on his praise kink and he rams even harder and faster in you with a loud garbled moan - the swollen blunt head of his cock ramming against your cervix in delicious pleasure-pain

Once the both of you are spent he likes to carry you back to the cabin where he treats you so good and tenderly with him wiping you clean, giving you a drink and then snuggling his large, warm body close to you on the sofa while you both listen to music on the cd player

Getting lost in the woods two years ago was the best thing that could've happened to you in your once unhappy life

You smile to yourself as you and Jason spoon on the sofa, your eyes fluttering closed for a nap

Jason better be ready because when you wake up you'll be pouncing on him again for round two

[bitchyglitterfox]

Saviors - Sinclair Brothers x F!Reader

Warnings: abuse but not from the Sinclairs, murder, language used against reader, Bo being out of character. Fluff, let me know if I missed anything.

A/n: this is possibly the second longest one-shot I've ever written besides petals and bullets. I hope you all like this one.

...

You, your two friends, well they were technically your boyfriend's friends and said boyfriend had decided that driving from California to Florida to go to Disney world would be cheaper and way more fun than flying. What a dumb idea that was. Your clock read just after midnight and you've made it just forty miles out of Baton Rouge when your back left tire blew on your Volkswagen minibus. 

"Fuck," you moan out as you gently pull to the side of the empty road.

"What? What happened?" The sudden jolt from the blow tire woke everyone including your easily irritated boyfriend, Ben. 

"I think we blew a tire so I pulled over," you say un buckling your seat belt just as you turned the key in the ignition. You open your door, the Louisiana air is sticky and wet. Of all the places to break down it had to be here. 

You stop next to your back left tire and inspect it, a rusted nail sticks out of the tire as it slowly deflates. You begin mumbling swears as you open the back of the minibus searching for the spare you are more the positive you replaced when the front tire blew six months ago. 

"Fucking damnit!" You place both hands in your hair giving a frustrated tug. 

 had already gotten out at this point and was standing next to you, his voice making you jump. 

"I asked you if you had put the spare back in, god do you always have to be so stupid!" He slams his fist against the side of the minibus. 

His anger makes you feel small, if there hadn't been people in the bus he would have punched you instead of the bus. 

"I-I could have sworn I put it in," you say barely above a whisper. 

"Yeah? You thought? Well you didn't and now we're stuck out here in bumfuck Louisiana!" 

"Hey, what's going on?" Rebecca rubs the sleep out of her eyes. 

"Y/n forgot to replace the spare tire and now we're stranded here til morning when another person probably comes down this road." 

You look down ashamed, reaching out to grab the camping gear and flashlight. You head off the road and just want to set up camp and sleep. You've been the only one driving for the last couple of days. 

"Come on let's just set up camp so we can all sleep and hopefully get help in the morning. 0 on, let's find level ground." You don't want to make Ben any madder than he already is. 

Everyone gets out of the van and follows behind you with sleeping bags and backpacks, in case someone stumbled upon the bus and decided to have some sticky fingers. 

Once you're all settled, you finally turn in for bed. Ben, still angry and annoyed, decided to sleep next to Rebecca and her boyfriend, leaving you alone near a tree stump. You let the tears flow freely from your tears. None of you noticed the truck slowly driving past with their lights off or the man that got out and took the spark plugs.

…

When the sun begins to rise you peek your eyes open and see everyone has already begun packing up camp, it seems they forgot to wake you. It's silent. Not the friendly enjoyable silence, no this silence is awkward, as thick as the Louisiana humidity. 

You walk back to the minibus, packing everything up as they all wait for a car as they lean up against the bus. Maxwell, Rebecca's boyfriend, opens the side of the bus to sit half inside and half out. 

You decide to turn the keys in the ignition to at least getting the inside of the bus cool. But to your surprise the ignition does turn over. 

"What the fuck is wrong now," you groan getting back out of the car and popping the hood, "where the fuck are the spark plugs?!" 

You slam the hood shut and walk over towards the trio standing outside the bus. 

"Who took the spark plugs out of the bus?" 

"What are you talking about?" Ben asks giving you an annoyed look. 

"The sparks are missing, did you guys hear anything last night?" You ask again looking around the three of them. 

However just before you can get your answer a truck comes round the bend. It's an old beat up pick up. The driver slows and stops just before you guys. 

"Well howdy there? Whatch y'all doing out here so early in the mornin'?" He's a scrawny man with a cute dog in the bed and you think that makes him all the more attractive too you. 

"Oh well we-" you're cut off by Ben. 

"Well my girlfriend here, she blew a tire and seemed to forget to get a new one. She also says she's missing her sparks but you know how women are with cars," he says roughly slamming his arm over your shoulder, making you flinch. The stranger's eyes flickered to you softening for just a moment before going back to a stoic look and staring at Ben. 

"I see well, I can take you to Ambrose, it's just 12 miles up the road, my brother owns a mechanic shop and he should be able ta help yall with yours problem. Only this is I only got room for two of ya's," he says rubbing his chin. 

"Why doesn't Y/n go? It is her car after all," Rebecca says looking at you. 

"I'll go too right babe? Can't have you going alone," Ben says, squeezing your shoulder painfully, you have to bite your lip from crying out. 

And so you and Ben pile into who you all found out to be Lester Sinclair. He was the youngest of three. 

"So where y'all from anyway? Don't seem like locals round these here parts," 

"Oh well-" 

"Were from California, driving cross country this summer to go and see disney world" 

You stay quiet now and just look down at your lap. You don't feel like getting Ben angry once again.

Lester looks at you from the corner of his eyes. Planning on ways to make your boyfriend shut up and let you speak for once. He had this overwhelming sense to protect you. Don't go thinking that healing black eye and the way you flinch any time that no good asshole would touch you. 

that. But why did yall choose to drive and not fly? Seems like you'd saved some time flying?" 

"Yeah well it seemed fun at the time until this one had to go and get the tire popped" Ben says annoyed. 

"Well shit, I forgot the roads flooded. We may have to go the long way." Lester says stopping in front of the road that leads into Ambrose. 

"Oh that's OK! We can walk from here, that way you don't have to worry about going an extra way," you say, smiling up at him with a genuine smile. He smiles back at you but doesn't miss the scowl on your boyfriend's face.

You wave at Lester after you've both exited the truck, you give jonesy a rub behind her ears and head over to the little step stones that have taken place in the washed out road.

"Come on, the faster we get into town the quicker we can get the shit we need and on the road again," Ben said, grabbing your arm and pulling you hard. He drags you all the way to the mechanics shop. He knocks on the front door. 

"Hello! We were told you were open and could help us!" Ben yells. 

…

Unbeknownst to the two of you, Bo was on the back roads talking with Lester. 

"She needs our help, he doesn't treat her right neither. She's got a healing black eye and every time he touched her she flinches, and you should've seen her, she's finer than frogs' hair split four ways," 

"Hmm, and you say she's got two other with 'er? Well bring them back to Vin and he can take care of them while I go and help our visitors. You grab them sparks and hide them in the house, right?" 

Lester shakes his head headed back into his truck to get Rebecca and her boyfriend. 

…

Back at the shop, Ben was getting impatient and you were bored. 

"I'm gonna go explore, since I'm just a woman and wouldn't know anything about cars right?" 

"You don't have to be such a bitch you know," he huffs. 

"Well you are such an asshole, after this all over and we're in Florida, I'm going to drop you all off and head home, beauce this," you say pointing between yourself and him, "is over. For good this time." 

He back hands you hard enough to draw blood from your lip that his fist made contact with.

"Fuck you Ben!" You screech, "find your own ways to Florida you fuckwad" you walk away up towards the house of wax wanting to clear your mind and maybe have a good cry. 

You are amazed when you make it up the hill to the beautiful building, only realizing as you got to the front that the architecture was made entirely of wax. You gently pushed open the door and stepped inside, giving  yourself your own guided tour of the house. 

Everything was beautiful and the little intimate details intrigued you. 

"These look so life like, the artist must have such magical hands," you say in a hushed voice as though you were in an art museum and let's be honest here you really were. 

Hiding in the shadows, watching you as you gushed on and on about his art work was Vincent Sinlair, the middle son of the Sinclair brothers and the artist behind the house of wax. 

His eye stared at you as though you were a beautiful piece of art that needed to be taken care of and looked after. He silently followed you around like a lost puppy. 

Once you finished admiring the art work and decided enough time had passed and Ben more than likely got the parts needed to get back on the road. You walk towards the exit when the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You peak over your shoulder and you are more than certain you saw a flash of long raven hair. 

…

Back at the mechanic shop just after you had left Bo's voice was heard booming from inside.

"Hold your fuckin' horses, I could hear you banging like all hell!" He opens the door with a scowl on his face, Bo hopes to see you there as well. With the way Lester was talking you up he was excited to see the beauty that was you. But alas you were there, only you annoyed looking boyfriend. 

"Whatchu need?" Bo asks, folding his arms over his chest. 

"My girlfriend's minibus has a popped tire and missing sparks. We need them as soon as you can give them to us. And I can make the pot sweeter," Ben says, pulling out a $100 from his wallet. You see Ben, Rebecca and Maxwell were silver spoon babies, you were lower middle class. 

"Well I'll be damned. As much as I'd like to take you up on your offer, I'll have to check in our basement to see if we have them. Why don't you come with and we can work out the price," Bo says, making room for Ben to come in through the door. Ben walks in further into the shop not paying any attention to where Bo had moved. Rookie mistake. Bo hits him over the head and Ben is out cold. 

When Ben wakes he is secured to an old barber chair under a grate in what he assumed to be the mechanic shop. He's gagged and wiggling trying to escape. He's screaming but nothing comes out. 

…..

When you make it to the mechanic shop, you try the door and are happy to see it's finally open. 

"Hello! Is anyone here? Ben! Where are you, you still here?" You ask out walking around, fingerings all the different products on the walls. 

"Why hello there darlin'" you jump at the sudden voice behind you. You are greeted with quite the sight, a gorgeous man with a trucker hat and mechanic overalls.

"H-hi! I um, I'm looking for the guy I was with, he came here to get a new tire and spark plugs. Have you seen him?" You can feel a blush creeping up your neck. Curse your affinity for getting nervous about gorgeous men talking to you and making you lose all sense of yourself. 

"That one fella with the permanent annoyed look? Yeah, I sent him on up to our house, we didn't have the right type or sparks here so I sent him up there to get help from my twin Vincent. I could take you up there if you want or you could wait here?" He says while taking his hat off and running his hand through his damp hair. It makes him look all the more attractive to you.

You smile at him, "is your brother the one who made the art in the house of wax by chance?" 

"That he is ma'am, that he is. He's our own lil family artist," he says showing off his award winning smirk, now how about we get you on up to your friend? Maybe even get some food in yall too. You must be hungry." Just as the words left his mouth your stomach growled causing you to blush and wrap your arms around your noisy tummy. 

You smile at him. You've smiled more around these two strangers than you ever had in your entire relationship with Ben.

"Of course, please lead the way," you follow after him and to his pick up truck, this one much nicer than the one you previously rode in only hours before. The silence on the drive to the house is silent but peaceful. 

You get a better peak at him as he drives, he's attractive and knows it. His hands are big and veiny. Suddenly you are having thoughts about how they'd feel between-woah there y/n you have a boyfriend. Wait wait no you don't you broke it off with the fuckwad. Yes continue with the thought of his fingers in between your thighs as he moves them in and out of your- 

"Doll?" Bo lays his hand on your shoulder startling you. 

"Yes?" The blood rushes to your cheeks and head almost making you dizzy.

"I said we're here now," he says while fixing his hat and getting out of the truck. 

"Oh." You peep out as you follow him into the house. It's beautiful, it's very homey and definitely has the feel that three grown men live here. 

"I'll get started on some lunch for you" he says walking to the kitchen as you stand awkwardly in the living room. 

There are footsteps heard coming up from what can be assumed is the basement. When the door opens you are met with a beautiful sight, a man appears sporting long black hair, half up in a mini bun. He's wearing a wax made mask. He was beautiful. 

"Wow you are beautiful," you say out loud. 

He head snaps towards you and he then signs 'Thank you' you smile, you took a few ASL classes in high school. 

"Are you the one who made all the beautiful sculptures in the wax museum?" 

'Yes, did you like them?' He signed again.

"I didn't just like them, I loved them! You have such a beautiful talent!" 

'Would you like to see more?' He signs, 'I have just finished one at the workshop I have in the basement of the house of wax,'

"I would love to, but I'm only in town until my minibus is fixed. It would've been a great honor to see it though!" 

Just ask he was about to reply, Bo is calling you both to the dining room table. 

…

The 3 of you are enjoying a wonderful meal when it's interrupted by the front door being slammed open. All three of your heads look towards and see Ben. 

"B-ben!" You stand abruptly. 

"Get the fuck away from them y/n! They are a bunch of freaks!" 

Neither man speaks as they are stiff as a board.

"What do you mean? They've been nothing but nice to me this entire time," you say staying put. 

"That one locked me up in some torture device!" He says pointing to Bo, causing you to look at him, "I think they're the ones behind the missing sparks and blown tire," this causes you to slightly step back. 

"Now darlin' it ain't what you think, ok maybe it is," Bo begins looking at Vincent for help. 

"Get the fuck over here now, so help me. Don't be fucking stupid!" Ben says. 

"What did you say?" You look at him. Without you even realizing, you subconsciously grabbed the knife on the table. You don't even realize what your doing until you hear Bo say "don't go at the throat or head. Vinny needs those intact." 

"I am so sick of you abusing me and belittling me! I am so sick of it!" You scream. 

"You wanna stay with the freaks you crazy bitch? Fine you do that but dont you ever forget who owns you." He says stepping back away from the three of you. "You don't own me, you've never owned me!" You land the first blow in his stomach twisting the blade. You don't stop until Bo is pulling you off of him. Holding you close to his chest as Vincent wipes away the tears that have begun to fall. You're free, you're finally free of the abuse. 

"We'll always protect you doll, always." Bo says as he holds you close and kisses the top of your head. 

[toescratches]

The Sinclair brothers have work to do. A couple of tourists adventure into town. But unfortunately after they've been hunted down and cleaned up, the brothers come across more work and more problems. That being the now abandoned baby in the car.

Tw: Bo is Bo, they're slashers what do you expect, they won't kill the baby obv, the baby is a girl or AFAB, Vincent is here 😱, Lester mentioned, they're conflicted, sorry this is short

tags for ppl who asked for pt2: @peyton-peyton @alicesinclair29 @wheresmyson @wildaces @santa-carla-boardwalk-1987 @blurrymango @sketchy-rosewitch @small-sinclair @hidingfromtex @kitty11sstuffig

—————————————————————————

Bo grunts in annoyance as he continues to drag the heavy carrier, along with him up the hill. He takes heavy breaths at the heat and at the extra weight he is carrying with him.

As Bo finally arrives at the steps of the House of Wax, he puts down the carrier, in the shade, and pants as he tries to catch his breath.

Fucking finally he thinks. Bo opens the door for the musem and picks up the carrier. He looks down at the baby. She looks up at him with curiosity and confusion. Bo scoffs and averts his gaze back to the entrance.

Finally he walks inside the museum. "Vincent!! Come out!" Bo yells and groans in annoyance. He sets the carrier on the floor and walks to the other side of the house, to Vincent's cave.

Bo is taken by surprise when his brother emerges up the stairs. "Took you long enough..." He groans under his breath.

Vincent looks up at Bo with a buzzled look in his eye and gesture for an explanation for his yelling.

Bo groans in annoyance, turns and walks back to the carrier in the hall. Vincent tilts his head in confusion but follows his brother.

As soon as Vincent sees what Bo had dragged into the museum, he freezes. What the hell?!

Bo looks down at the baby in the carrier, with his back to Vincent, waiting for his reaction.

Vincent walks around, trying to gather himself and his thoughts. This can't be real. Is all he can think.

The older twin puts his hands into his pockets and sways on his feet. Bo's face is no longer filled with confusion and panic. It's not only frustration, annoyance and curiosity. The baby keeps making quiet noises of coo's and weakly reaches it's hands up to the man above her.

Bo tilts his head as he stares at the child. In the background, behind him, he hears the sounds of Vincent's shuffling feet and his groans of distress.

Bo fights something inside him as he looks down at the child. Eventually he seems to lose this fight as he crouches down and begins to take the baby out of the carrier.

Vincent turns his head at the sound of unbuckling and looks at Bo with confusion. He quickly realizes what his brother is doing, and walks up to his brother to protest.

Vincent desperately grabs onto his brothers shirt and tries to pull him up, and away from the carrier with the baby girl. Bo groans in annoyance and pulls away from his brother's grip. He turns back to look at the child and finally picks it up. Bo holds her in against his chest with a causios and nervous hold, no wonder since he has no idea what he is doing.

Vincent circles his brother and tries to make non-verbal signs to his older brother, to please put the child down and walk away. Bo keep ignoring him as he tries to get a comfortable and a firm, but gentle, grip on the girl.

Vincent whines in distress and desperation as he looks at his brother and turns around with a groan of frustration. Why?! God damnit! Vincent hold his head in his hands as he wanders around.

Bo seems to be unmoved by this as he keeps his attention on the baby girl in his arms.

"Hey, baby... What's your name...?" He whispers with a awkward tone. He is clearly slightly uncomfortable, but tries his best.

The baby only responds with cooing and stares. Bo chuckles at this and lightly bounces the baby in his hold.

Bo keeps the slight smirk on his face as he hears Vincent approaching from behind. His brother walks next to him, and quietly stares.

The black haired(emo) man taps his brothers shoulder, trying to get his attention. Bo turns his head and looks at Vincent with a questioning expression, waiting for him to act.

Vincent begins to sign to his brother. What the hell are you planning?!

Bo chuckles. "C'mon what's up your ass? It's not that big of a deal."

Not that big of a deal?!! It's a baby!! He quickly and dramatically answers.

"Yeah I know that, you shithead!" Bo groans. "I won't make her your problem, okay?! We won't kill a baby... And she's quite quiet, no?" He chuckles.

Vincent groans and lets out a big sigh of frustration. You're acting impulsively! Stop being dumb! We can't take care of a baby!!

Bo rolls his eyes and turns to look back at the baby. "I or Lester will go to the city and buy some shit! It's not that difficult! And think about it, we won't have anyone looking after the town, Mama's town, after we die or get killed!" He tries to reason with his brother.

Vincent sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. I still can't believe this is happening... He sighs with one hand to his brother.

"Let it be already. We'll handle it, and if not us them I will!" Bo grunts and gently bounces the baby around in his arms while looking down at her.—————————————————————————

PLEASE COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED IN THE FUTURE!!

Sorry this is so short, I'm such a lazy and slow writer and I felt like I had to upload today!

Critism is appreciated!

[loveandmurders]

You belong to Ambrose I (poly!Sinclairs x f!reader)

Hey everyone, I'm happy to finally post the first part of this imagine.

I really hope you'll enjoy it <3

Warnings: no proof reading, a few strong words, angst, dangerous!Lester, mentions of violence, blood and murders, morally grey reader.

“Hey, mom, what do you think Ambrose looks like now?” you heard yourself asking your mother without even meaning to.

The woman sent you a quick glance before her attention went back on the food she was preparing on the kitchen table.

“Why?” she sternly asked back and you tried to shrug it off, no matter how embarrassed you were starting to feel about the whole conversation you just brought up.

“Don’t know. I’m just planning a road trip with friends and we’ll go close back to where Ambrose is…was. I noticed it wasn’t even marked on maps anymore” you explained and your mother hummed

“Then you got your answer. Ambrose must be gone.” she said “Like the brothers you used to love so much” she replied and sent you another look, as you glanced down at your lap, in shame.

You should have known better than to talk about Ambrose to your mother. The woman had always wanted to pretend it had been a terrible nightmare.

“Mom…” you whispered

“I’ve never understood why you were so fond of them. Your dad either. They were a terrible influence on you. I’m happy you decided to burn the bridges with them and that you never went back to Ambrose. There was nothing for you there. And those people were troublesome and violent and… freaks. You deserved way better than them.” she continued and you resisted the urge to take their defence. They weren’t freaks, they were… a great part of your life and now a great hole inside your chest. “What was their name again?” your mother asked.

“Sinclairs” you instantly replied before biting your tongue

“Ah yes. Well, I’m glad you didn’t become one” she continued and you frowned at that.

“What do you mean, mom?” you wondered with a tilt of your head

“The eldest one, when he came back to Ambrose after his mother died and that he was sent away for a few months, and before his dad died that same day, he looked for you. He knocked at our door. Thank God you were away with your dad then. I told him to go away and he assured me that he would never go away from you, and that you would become his wife one day too.”

“His… wife” you whispered, your heart aching.

Bo was indeed often speaking about marrying you and sharing you with his brothers, but you always thought there were only words; the Sinclairs never really planned out their future. Bo was too obsessed with cars and getting free from his family to care about anything else. Vincent was too focused on his art. Lester was just a lost kid wandering into the woods late at night. You hadn’t thought they were actually seeing you as their future. You always appeased Bo, you always brought Vincent back to reality, you always helped Lester feel like he was part of something.

“To be honest” your mom resumed and your attention went back on her “with the amount of time you were spending with him and his brothers, I was really worried you would agree on doing something that stupid. And even though you left Ambrose heartbroken and sobbing, I’m happy something happened between you, him and his twin, that day. I don’t know what it is, but I knew it convinced you to leave.” she continued and you didn’t answer. The memory of that day was still burning you to the core.

You had been so happy so see Bo and later on, Vincent. You had run into their arms and they had hugged you with fierce love. You were all planning on getting Lester back too. 

And then, Bo killed his dad and Vincent told you he was going to continue the House of Wax, the way his mother always did. You knew about the murders, you knew people were beneath the wax, but you never said anything because you loved the boys. And despite how an awful mother Trudy was, she liked you. You were a girl, and she could finally chat around with what looked like a daughter to her. Victor was also a little more careful around you. You were loved by the Sinclairs, and they couldn’t explain it; it just happened.

But their love was dark and violent, and you couldn’t agree to live like that; you couldn’t stay in Ambrose when everything was dying around and you couldn’t live from murders. You promised yourself to never betray your boys, but at the same time, you left with your parents without a goodbye. You knew that if you decided to go see the twins one last time, they would convince you to stay and it couldn’t happen. You never recovered from the fact you didn’t see Lester again before leaving and you hoped Bo had been able to bring him back home. You were certain he did though, because his people were the only thing that mattered to him.

You were about to leave the kitchen when your mother called your name and you turned around, with a raised eyebrow, silently asking her what she wanted.

“Do me a favour and stay away from Ambrose during your little road trip, okay?” she said with a hint of concern in her voice

“You said yourself that there is nothing there anymore anyways” you replied, a little bit surprised by your mother’s attitude

“I know but… I don’t want you to tempt the devil” she replied and you only found yourself nodding. 

You wondered if by the devil she meant Bo.

Bo knelt in front of a woman he just killed. She was the last one of the group and he was glad about it because he felt quite tired now. It was too hot today to play hide and seek with assholes. At least, the night was already casting its shadows around Ambrose and bringing with it a little bit of fresh air. Bo looked down at the woman, tilting his head to the side as he watched the pretty necklace she had around her neck. It was slightly covered in blood but he was pretty sure he could wash it without trouble. It looked expensive; he was certain the glitter coming from beneath the blood was a little diamond. He took it off her body without a care and pocketed it before Vincent could use this jewel on his next wax statue.

“Y/N would’ve liked it” Bo hummed to himself before sadly sighting. His throat tightened as always when he was saying your name out loud.

Whenever he was spotting something that reminded him of you, he was always grabbing it and putting it away, in a box filled with gifts for you. He never stopped hoping that one day he would be able to give you this box. You would realise how much you were loved then; but so far it only happened in his dreams. And yet, he was thinking about you everyday of his life and he still believed you would come back home one day. He was certain you were meant to be a Sinclair; even his parents were liking you so it had to mean something. He missed you so much, he missed your laugh and he missed the way you loved his brothers and himself. Ambrose was empty without you. Life had always been shit, but your absence was torture. He had thought that after a few years, the pain would subside, but it really didn’t. It often felt like it was actually growing up inside his chest. You left with a piece of themselves, you left with the only sun and happiness the boys truly felt. He knew his brothers were feeling the same, because everytime they were all eating together at night, the conversation always ended on what you became. And on why you never came back.

They could guess you were disapproving of the killing, but they couldn’t stand the idea that maybe you got scared of them. They couldn’t even say it out loud; you were the only thing they would never have hurt.

Bo sighted again as he grabbed the woman by her ankles and he started to pull her to the house. Vincent came upstairs when he heard a body being dragged on the floor and he helped his twin out. Vincent could tell by the look in Bo’s eyes that he was thinking about you. It was the only moment Bo was utterly silent too, lost in thoughts.

Vincent couldn’t blame him. He had hundreds of books filled with drawings of you. Whenever he thought that he would never hear your voice again, never feel your touch on his skin anymore, Vincent was drawing you. He was certain you existed that way, and he was certain he would never forget about what you looked like, even if he knew your figure and face were carved inside his chest and brain. You used to caress the bad side of his face and to remind him he was handsome, even in front of Trudy or Victor. You had never been afraid to show yourself with “the freak”. And his skin felt so dry and painful now your fingers hadn’t traced it in years.

The twins worked in utter silence and none of them felt hungry that night, so they went to bed earlier than usual. None of them slept actually, simply staring at the ceiling or at the wall, wondering where you were and if you were happy… without them. They wanted you to be happy as much as they wanted you to be miserable without them, because it was their only chance you would one day come back home.

Lester wasn’t better than the twins. And if Bo fucked with some girls, Lester just couldn’t even think about touching someone else than you. It felt wrong to him. He promised you he was yours and only yours after all. He had always enjoyed how a little bit possessive you were with the three of them. Lester wasn’t certain of a lot of things, but he knew he belonged to you. You had always loved them equally, giving them the love they were all craving so much.

You were always in Lester’s mind. He was always hoping to find you among a group of tourists, to be fair. He never stopped looking for you and hoping to see you again. You belonged to them too, so he couldn’t understand how you could live away from them. And he knew that if he ever found you again, he wouldn’t hesitate to lock you up somewhere if it meant keeping you by his side. Forever. 

And he was certain that the twins were thinking the same. They lost you once, they wouldn’t allow it to happen again.

But for that… he needed to find you first. 

And every morning and every night, he promised himself he would. Out of the three, he was the one who was the most certain he could get you back home, no matter if you wanted it or not. You were his little goddess, so he was certain that at some point you would come close to Ambrose again… and he would stumble upon you… and he would get you home. You would become the divinity of Ambrose once again, and everything would be alright.

One day, luck seemed to be on his side.

The closer you drove to Ambrose, the more you recognised the roads. Your mother’s words never stopped echoing inside your head and at some point, you turned the wheel so you wouldn't get too close to the place. A part of you wanted to drive right back to it; you even felt a little pang when you took the opposite path. You wanted to be back home more than anything, but you were too afraid of what would await you there. You even believed that the twins would be so mad at you, they would kill you and turn you into a wax statue so you couldn’t leave anymore without saying goodbye.

You found a little campsite and you all decided to spend the evening and night there. You forced yourself to focus on your people so you could forget about the Sinclairs. Another part of you was begging you to leave this place and to drive as far as possible away from Ambrose. You had no idea which parts of you were stronger.

You realised you didn’t have enough food for tonight so you and another girl took the car to find a shop nearby. It was late so a lot of them were close and you had to admit, you shivered in fear when your friend showed you the only store open 24/7 in the area. It was very close to Ambrose; little did you know that it was actually the town Lester was living in. You tried to not show anything as you drove to the store. You crossed your fingers to not run into any of the Sinclairs before you thought how stupid this was. The boys wouldn’t be there, and they might even be dead because of their way of life. And you were a lucky girl, something like that couldn’t happen to you.

Even if something inside of you was bubbling in excitement and hope.

As you entered the store, a man was leaving it. He moved to the side to let you come in and as you were about to thank him, your eyes met his and widened.

Lester.

You tried to move past him, hoping he wouldn’t have recognised you or that he would hate you enough to let you go easily. But you were a fool. He instantly grabbed your wrist as he whispered your name, bringing you back to him. He was in trance. He couldn’t believe the day finally came. Your friend frowned, wondering what was going on. She placed an arm around your shoulder to show you support

“Can you let go of her, buddy?” she calmly said and Lester instantly obeyed, not wanting to cause a scene. He put his hands in front of him in defence.

“Sorry. Hi, Y/N, ‘s been a long time” he hummed, looking for your eyes.

“Hi, Les. Sorry, but we’re a bit in a hurry here, we’ll chat another time, hmm?” you said, hoping to get out of this discussion as fast as possible. Goosebumps littered his skin at the sound of your voice calling him by his nickname.

You were surprised when Lester simply smiled and nodded. You noticed his grin didn’t reach his eyes though and you suppressed a shiver. You knew you were in trouble, especially with him letting you go so easily. Even more when he cheerfully said as you turned your back to him “See you soon, darl”

Lester settled in his truck and waited for you and your friend to get out of the store. He dialled his big brother’s number with a light in his eyes. It was the first time in so long he felt like he was finally alive. He was certain things were finally going to be good.

“‘S up, Les?” Bo hummed at the other side of the line, always answering his phone very fast whenever his brothers needed him

“She’s here.” Lester simply said because he was too happy and excited to say anything else.

“What are ya talkin’ ‘bout, kid?” Bo asked, not wanting to get some false hope.

“Y/N. She’s at the store. She’s with a friend. Gonna follow them, I’ll send ya their location… And we’ll bring her home tonight”

It was a promise.

And a threat.

--

Taglist : @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21

--

PART II

[itsghostie]

Y/n: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Bo: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

Y/n: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING VINCENT WITH ME

Lester , picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

[made by incorrect quote generator]

[bluecoolr]

"I don't love you, Bo."

"No matter what you do. No matter how hard I try. I don't think I ever will."

"I know, Momma. I know."

[lebenspurpur]

what do they smell like

AN: I know I did this before, but I need to correct myself. Plus, it was like 2 years ago, so..

ℝℤ 𝕄𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕖𝕝 𝕄𝕪𝕖𝕣𝕤

Most of the time, he smells like sweat and that sweet coppery odor of blood.

That changes whenever he actually decides to take a shower and change his clothes.

Suddenly he smells like nothing. And I mean nothing.

If you inhale deeply enough, you might get a faint whiff of sanitizer, like the kind they use in hospitals, but that's it.

You can decide for yourself if that's a blessing or a curse.

𝕍𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕊𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕣

Paraffin wax.

So he smells like plastic and, like, the worst kind.

Maybe you need to convince him to use some bee wax candles for a change. Or some wax that smells like something nice, at least.

Which makes me think of another headcannon: Vincent hates the smell of cheap scented candles. He can not stand them. You'd think his nose might be desensitized to bad smells by now, but no.

The only scented candles he allows in his basement are the expensive ones, with real dried flowers or some good essential oils.

Other than paraffin wax, he smells like his body wash, which is the same as Bo's.

(You can not convince me they do not share one. Maybe buy him some nice shampoo while we're at it.)

The smell of the wax easily overpowers anything else, though.

𝔹𝕠 𝕊𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕣

Bo prides himself on owning some really nice cologne.

So, if he applies that, he actually smells really nice.

Other than that: cigarettes.

I feel like he actually has a nice smell, though. He smells like someone who'd call you sugar, if that makes sense.

𝕃𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕊𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕣

I know, we have the ongoing joke of Lester smelling bad, but I've changed my mind.

Of course, after working, he smells very bad. Like a dead animal that has been cooking in the sun for way too long.

But he's a clean boy! After he takes a shower, he smells like a mix of leather and something flowery, airy. Kind of like a freshly picked bouquet of wildflowers. Don't ask me where that comes from.

When he's been crafting something, he also smells like hot glue and wood, but it's not powerful enough to be unpleasant.

𝔹𝕣𝕒𝕙𝕞𝕤 ℍ𝕖𝕖𝕝𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕖

Dust.

Like, you know when something smells old because it's been standing somewhere without being touched for too long?

That's what he smells like.

He doesn't need to, though. He probably has an arsenal of really expensive perfumes and colognes standing somewhere in that mansion.

After he meets you, there's a slight chance that he'll take more care of himself. And in that case, he will finally use those fragrances.

As soon as he does that, he smells like that mansion looks. Rich, educated, charming, handsome even.

𝕋𝕙𝕠𝕞𝕒𝕤 ℍ𝕖𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕥

Hay, dry earth, Tommy smells like a hot day on a field.

When he spent some more time in the basement, the smell becomes even earthier and damp. Like a crypt.

Though, most days the 'warm' smell is stronger and it's really wholesome. When you hug him, it feels like you're hugging a cat who's been lounging in the sun for a while and got all heated up. (I just want to hug him, man.)

𝕆𝕥𝕚𝕤 𝔻𝕣𝕚𝕗𝕥𝕨𝕠𝕠𝕕

Now, that man smells bad.

Rotting corpses, vomit kind of bad. It's not good.

When he does his makeup and actually showers, it's not that bad anymore. Then, he just smells like the makeup he applies (you know, the stuff they paint children's faces with?) and (probably Baby's) body wash.

𝔹𝕒𝕓𝕪 𝔽𝕚𝕣𝕖𝕗𝕝𝕪

Baby loves sweet perfumes, especially when they have a fruity note (pun intended).

She has a few fragrances she always uses, and they make her smell really nice, and really sweet, kind of like candy.

If she doesn't apply those, she smells like lotion and body oil.

Pretty, that's what she smells like.

ℝ𝕁 𝔽𝕚𝕣𝕖𝕗𝕝𝕪

Motor oil, leather and rain.

Motor oil from working on the trucks all day long, leather from his jackets. Where does the smell of rain come from? Don't ask me.

He smells really masculine in that sense, like a ride on a motorcycle.

𝕁𝕒𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕍𝕠𝕠𝕣𝕙𝕖𝕖𝕤

Do corpses emit smell if they're still alive?

Well, Jason does.

He smells like wet earth, rain, and the forest. A really grounding smell overall.

Hugging him feels like laying on the forest ground after it has been raining for a while. In a nice way, though.

It's really refreshing, and really pleasant.

𝔸𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕒 𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕘

Amanda uses really nice body wash. Something that smells like pine needles.

Other than that, she smells like old metal and disinfectant.

Old metal, because she spends half of her days designing traps and disinfectant because of John.

[dootys]

Random cute and tender moments with slashers - part 2

I'm already thinking about part 3 (but it will take a while), so if you want me to draw someone specific, let me know 😊

(part 1 is here)

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Slow dancing in the music hall? Absolutely! This is a new rule on the list. Brahms is sucker for romance he has read about in his books. And he can't be happier when you ask him to dance one day after dinner ❤️

Oh, did I say tender? Sorry, that doesn't apply to Bo, this motherfucker is scared to death to be vulnerable and if you ask him for cuddles, well.. you shouldn't have provoked him 🤭

Vincent is always over the moon when you show your interest in his art, especially when you ask him to teach you how to paint. You haven't even finished the question and he alreay has new apron in hand. Every few second you catch him staring at you with adoration, and everytime he gets embarrassed and starts blushing 🥰

Lester is the biggest sweetheart of them all. He loves every minute he spends with you, the cuter and goofier, the better. He always finds a reason to give you piggyback ride. But don't be surprised if he gets carried away by fooling around and both of you end up in the water, with Jonesy happily running around you 🥰

BONUS

I was just kidding. I have soft spot for Bo and I know, that he can be affectionate with his s/o, because deep down he craves tender touches and the sappy romantic shit.. So when nobody is around, he can be very soft ❤️

🩷Taglist: @sketchbook-of-shadows